


Blackbird

by Proper_Stopping_Distance



Series: The Ties That Bind [1]
Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Still Have Powers, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Sexual Abuse, pricefield
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-31
Updated: 2018-09-27
Packaged: 2019-07-03 02:39:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 53,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15809649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Proper_Stopping_Distance/pseuds/Proper_Stopping_Distance
Summary: AU set in Seattle during Max's junior year of school. Max is suffering from abuse both at home and at school, and is seeking a way out. But when an old friend blasts back into her life, everything changes.





	1. Despair

It all started when Max turned down Jacob, the artistically skilled wunderkind and hopeful photography pride of Seattle's Arthur High School. Knowing that the strange boy sat in the desk directly behind hers, Max kept her attention focused to her journal, doing her best to stay focused on recording her thoughts. Anything to distract from the inevitable hell after class.

Jacob Landhauser. Younger brother to star quarterback Drew (who seemed to have inherited the athletic genes). Tall, lean, and cut with short dark hair, Jacob always wore a brooding expression that screamed "bored." It was as if he had seen every "cool guy" anime stereotype and thought _that's me_. On any other student this would've been nothing more than teenage angst, and be given no more purchase than any other emo-kid. But Jacob had made a splash on the local photography scene, winning last year's covetous prize to have his work exhibited at the prestigious Chase Space art gallery. Of course, it probably didn't hurt that his father was best buds with Mr. Chase himself. Max had considered submitting her own work, but by the time the deadline came around, life had made other plans.

For weeks into the start of her Junior year, Max had felt the quiet yet persistent stares from her obnoxiously entitled classmate. Although not bad looking, Max herself had never given Jacob a serious thought. He was always surrounded by a cadre of onlookers while he sat atop a desk, soaking up their freely given attention. They were like a group of puppies, eager for attention and affirmation from their master. Through it all Max felt Jacob's frequent off hand glances, usually succeeded by one or two angry stares from female members of his flock.

 _Ridiculous_ , Max thought. _As if I don't have enough going on to worry about. Now I have to deal with lover-boy scorned? What deity did I piss off to deserve this?_

Max stopped herself short before descending into another bout of self pity. It was one of the things she was working on--despite the recent and horrible turn both home and school life had taken, she knew wallowing on it wouldn't change anything. Not that she deserved change.

Although she couldn't make out the words, Max could feel the judgement of her classmates radiate from their hushed gossip. Every day it was the same. The stares. The snickers. The quiet whispers from which she could periodically make out her name. Always "Maxine," now that they knew how much she hated being called by her full name. Max grumbled to herself, shutting her journal to stare up at the ceiling.

 _Like he couldn't get any girl in our class? Why_ me? _And of course refusing the younger brother of the most popular kid in school paints a huge red target on my back.  
_

The lingering pit of dread grew as the final minutes of class squeaked by. The girls, spearheaded by that barbie blonde posh-wannabe Vogue model, seemed to make it their daily chore to find some way to make life more hellish than it already was. The first time, it wasn't so bad: the queen, escorted by her minions, invaded Max's private lunch space (lunch was always a much-anticipated respite of solitude) and spent the proceeding twenty minutes talking shit about anyone stupid enough to turn down the most desired student at school. Max tried to relocate numerous times, but was promptly and aggressively held in place by one of the girls seated to her side. Looking back, the incident wasn't so bad, but the sheer _gall_ of it was unnerving.

 _Like I couldn't tell they were talking about me. What was that supposed to be, anyway? Clever? I'm quiet, not stupid. Just because I'm not making best buds with every kid in class doesn't mean I don't have any social aptitude! And shouldn't they be asking me for, like, advice, or something? Their unattainable god-figure asked_ me _out! Not them! And this is my punishment for wanting to be left alone._

Max had thought her lunch time interruption was the end of it. Just some peeved girls getting their ya-yas out on a perceived threat. Annoying though it was, Max put it past her, and let more immediate concerns consume her thoughts. But the girls upped the ante the next day. It was clear this wasn't some simple warning shot: this was war, and Max had only weathered the opening salvo.

What Max found equally strange as her tormentor's behavior was that the boy in question, Jacob, had resumed "business as usual." As if nothing had happened--like he never even had eyes for Max. Only his friends, especially the girls, had turned on her. Not that Max was especially in their good graces to begin with. But being a wallflower had its perks, especially for someone in Max's predicament. Her newfound status as social pariah did little to ease her state of mind.

Max shut her eyes as the bell rang, bringing language arts to a close and signaling the start of lunch break. Returning her focus to her desk, Max released a sigh as she packed her journal, pencils, and other odds and ends into her bag. She didn't get halfway through before one of the girls shoved her shoulder as she passed by, causing her Polaroid instant camera to fall to the ground. Without a second thought Max leaned down and reclaimed the camera, too worried about what damage it might have suffered to care about the identity of the perpetrator. Fortunately the only damage was cosmetic.

_Great. Just like me. Still working, but the goods are damaged._

When she sat back up, a folded note sat innocently on her otherwise empty desk.

 _Great. Now what? More anonymous threats? It's so pathetic. Like I care. Heck, I wish I_ could _care._

Today's insult, "SLUT," written with hasty and scrawly handwriting, informed Max that her enemies were beginning to lack imagination. If this is best they could come up with, then maybe their campaign was showing signs of wear and tear. After waiting for the remaining stragglers to leave the room, Max rose from her desk and made for a silent exit. The teacher, Mr. Andrews, looked as if he wanted to say something, but instead simply stared as Max moved her way towards the exit.

_Sorry, teacher. Like you could do anything. But what you saw was just the tip of the iceberg..._

Life became one tragedy after another since moving to Seattle from Arcadia Bay. The death of her (at the time) best friend's father not withstanding, Max never expected to lose _hers_ a few years later. Inwardly, she considered Ryan Caulfield's death as "just deserts" for being such a coward towards her childhood bestie.

 _"Stay in touch" my ass! I hid like a little baby and let her suffer all alone, comfortable with my new life and_ living _parents. Hah. Then dad dies, and everything goes to shit. Guess Chloe gets the last laugh. She probably has at least_ one _parent that still loves her..._

Max let her thoughts drift to her mother, Vanessa, and their venomous relationship. Although their bond before Ryan's death was always a bit strained (Max always had been a daddy's girl) things between them had fallen apart completely after the accident. Another worry stacked onto the pile.

Max bit her lip as she re-shouldered her bag, listlessly bouncing off the side of the mostly-empty hallway while trudging towards her favorite lunch hideaway. She bobbed her head a little to the music from her earbuds, and did her best to avoid direct eye contact with any passer-bys.

As if reading her thoughts, Max's cell phone buzzed. A quick glanced showed that the text was from mom. Stifling a gulp, Max swiped to unlock and repeated a thought over and over in her head, as if in mantra: _please don't be out tonight, please don't be out tonight._

 **Mom:** hanging out with some friends, will be back late. Calvin will make dinner. Be good. I don't want a repeat of last week.

Max locked her phone without replying, doing her best to suppress a shudder. Gradually, she came to a stop in the middle of the hallway--her appetite vanished after reading Vanessa's text. Taking a moment to swallow down a cold wave a nausea, Max subconsciously began working her way towards the biology room. Her teacher, Ms. Banks, often let Max stay there during lunch. It was a perfect getaway, when it was available. Hopefully today was one such day. When she was around, Ms. Banks would sometimes let Max sit in the back corner of the room while she graded assignments. A perfect opportunity for safe introversion.

After a few minutes more walking, Max arrived at her destination and swung the door open. The scene before her made her emit a small gasp: the room was filled with kids, chairs in a circle, and in the middle of what looked to be humorous discussion.

_Fizzle-brains, that's right! It's moderated talk week. Of course Ms. Banks would offer up her room for some sort of panel discussion. Stupid!_

Before Max could make a swift exit, the moderator, a bright-eyed girl--a senior--who Max recognized as being on this year's yearbook team, greeted her with a warm smile.

"Come in! Please, we have a few seats left, over there at the back! Remember, everyone has to attend at least a few of these!"

_And I haven't done any, and it's already Wednesday. Better tough it out, I guess..._

Max wormed her way through to a seat in the back and collapsed into a chair, ignoring the off hand looks from the students. Fortunately there were only a few faces she recognized. Unfortunately, one such face was the queen bully herself, Victoria. Victoria gave Max a sly smirk as she sauntered past.

_I wonder what the topic even is? I'll bet it was posted on the door, but air-headed me didn't even bother to check._

"So! Jeremy here," she continued, pointing towards a young man with frazzled hair that sprung out from under a Mariners baseball cap, and who was slouched at an almost forty-five degree angle to his seat, "was just finishing up giving us his thoughts on modern sexuality and its affects on public policy, such as marriage. Not everyone here might agree with what he said but please remember this is a forum for _open discussion._ By voicing our thoughts in an open atmosphere, we can relate how we feel, and come to a better understanding about our differences of opinion."

 _God, kill me now. Seriously--strike me dead. Of all the panels I had to barge into. This_ has _to be divine punishment._

The voices around the room faded into Charlie Brown-esque mummers as Max reclused deeper into her thoughts. Since moving to Seattle, her best friend, and pseudo-obsession, Chloe Price, had faded from her mind, becoming not much more than a background murmur of guilt every few days or so. The fact that both her parents seemed silently relieved that Max was moving on aided the process. Every member of the Caulfield family seemed eager to forget their last few days in Arcadia Bay.

By the time Ryan died, Chloe was a painful memory Max did her best to avoid. And she had gotten _good_ at it. Until everything changed on that day, one year ago, in December. Now? It was impossible to remember her father's death without also being reminded of her own betrayal. The two memories became intertwined, intermixed, and interwoven. Thinking about Ryan lead to thinking about William--which inevitably lead to Chloe's stoic face the day of the funeral.

Gripped again by another swirling bout of guilt, Max placed a hand to the opposite arm while studying the subtle chips and cracks of the tiled classroom floor. It took a few repeated calls from the moderator to shake her free.

"Maxine? You've been looking quite serious over there for some time now, do you have anything you want to add?"

Max realized, with a start, that every student in the circle was staring at her. The moderator's question hung in the air as Max grasped for words.

_How did she know my name? Did someone tell her, and I didn't notice? Was I thought far gone?_

"Do you even know what sex _is_ , Maxine?", Victoria questioned, making no effort to hide the sneer from her voice. She was rewarded with a quiet round of hushed chuckles. Max cursed herself for permitting a blush to creep into her cheeks.

One of Victoria's minions, _Courtney_ , Max remembered, answered while Max struggled to think up a snappy rejoinder. "Sure she does, Vic. Just ask Dustin, or Brian. Or hell, even Sam! You _know_ she puts out for them."

The moderator attempted to cut into the conversation, but was overridden by Victoria. "True. I suppose poor girl needed _something_ to fill that fatherless void," she acquiesced after pretending to consider Courtney's words. The verbal stab generated a mixture of laughs and raised "ooos" from the now enthralled audience.

"That's _enough_ , you two," the moderator chided. "We're here to have a civil discussion, not re-enact _Mean Girls."_   A few kids chuckled softly at the reference, and, confident that she had regained control of the conversation, decided to focus on another student. Victoria, however, kept her gaze on Max, the clever smirk never leaving her face.

* * *

Max found herself standing before the entrance of her home. School had ended hours ago, and she was tired of milling about aimlessly through Seattle's streets. Max had never been one much for after school activities, or hanging out at the local fast food diners to gossip over current events. So once again she found herself caught between a rock and a hard place: hell is the outside world, hell is home. The lone black dodge Charger parked in the drive way said without words everything she needed to know. True to her text, Mom was out, and Max found herself faced with another evening alone with Calvin.

Calvin Young--a man who bore her mother's maiden name. After Ryan's death, Calvin swooped in to help his sister, both emotionally and financially. Vanessa welcomed her older brother's assistance without question. Within months the man had practically moved in, helping to pay the mortgage and handle things around the house. Unfortunately for the Caulfields, neither Ryan nor Vanessa had given much thought to life insurance, leaving Vanessa, a self described house wife, a penniless widow. Vanessa was one month away from the bank foreclosing on the house before she broke her silence, and informed her brother just how bad their situation was.

Calvin himself was at an odd crossroads in life. His marriage had fallen apart, and was looking for a new place to live. When he learned about his sister's financial situation, he insisted that he help pay the mortgage, at least until Vanessa could afford to do so herself. They both thought it fine if Calvin moved in if he was paying the bills anyway. That was months ago, and little had changed since. Vanessa grew reliant on her brother and his steady job. Instead of rebuilding herself, and restarting her career that she put on hold to raise Max, she instead threw herself into a second youth to escape the heartache of reality.

But, nevertheless, things were fine at first. Max had interacted a little with her uncle over the years, and he seemed normal--chummy with her father at the occasional family gathering, always telling incredibly stupid jokes. His job commanded an aura of respect, which Calvin always seemed to enjoy. All that, however, changed, when he stepped up as the "surrogate father" role. And then something darker. In the ensuing months, Max complained repeatedly to her mother, but Vanessa wouldn't hear it. She chalked it up to a entitled, crafted story from an ungrateful daughter determined to add more misery to her life, and ruin whatever fun still to be had.

Max had considered options. Running away seemed an obvious choice. Could hop a train, travel down the coast. Maybe stop in Oregon--in Arcadia Bay. Try to reconnect with... Max shook her head violently, preventing the fantasy from proceeding further.

 _That bridge is burnt._ No way _she'd want to see your face now. Besides, she's probably skipped a grade. She was so smart. Probably in college now, somewhere far away. On track to be an awesome scientist. Where ever she is, and what ever she's doing, it's a sure bet she wouldn't want anything to do with yours truly.  
_

Max forcefully shook off an innocent, happy memory of breakfast with Chloe at the Two Wales. Joyce's warm, motherly face, interrupted by an enthusiastic Chloe, always jealous of anyone who stole Max's attention, slipped away and faded from her mind's eye. Max gathered her determination and stepped through her home's doorway, shutting it behind her as quietly as possible. As always, the first draw to her attention was the badge and holstered gun on the entry way table. Seated alongside Calvin's work related equipment, a recent picture of him and Vanessa, smiling like nothing bad had happened, supplanted the family portrait of Max, Ryan, and Vanessa (which was now stored somewhere in the attic).

 _What a farce. To "serve and protect" my ass. Mom thinks I'm a liar. And I sure as hell can't file a police report. Fucker_ is  _the police._

With any luck, Calvin would be occupied, or too drunk to get off the couch, and Max could make her way to her way to her bedroom unopposed. As if that guaranteed any real safety. But right at this moment, the thought of not enduring yet another confrontation held a strong appeal. The day at school had been rough, and Max's room pulled like a magnet.

 _Just a few more steps. Then it's some serious "pillow, meet face"_ _time_.

Would that reality be so easy. Her hand, only inches from her room's doorknob, stopped short. Her entire body froze, hairs down the back of her neck prickling at the sound of his voice.

"You're late," Calvin accused in his commanding, matter-of-fact tone. He stood at the far end of the hallway, cutting off the light from the windows in the living room beyond. Well toned and built, with tight fitting jeans, shirt, and a crew haircut, the rising star in the Seattle Police Department held a beer lazily in one hand while he steeled his gaze at Max. "Vanessa said you'd be home for dinner. Where the hell were you?"

Max shut her eyes, staying motionless, like a doe caught in the gaze of a predator. When she didn't reply, Calvin began to approach, taking his time between each step. Max wanted to do anything: scream, run. Fight back. But terror held its grip.

"Listen, Max. You know that I love you, and your mother, right? You're family."

_Shut up shut up shut up. Please, just please... not today..._

Calvin's shadow loomed as she remained entrenched in place, in front of her door, too terrified to move a muscle. Calvin was close enough that she could feel his breath on the back of her neck. The faint smell of alcohol lingered about, omnipresent as always.

Max wrinkled her nose as Calvin let lose a small belch, and placed a hand on her shoulder. Which tightened after a few seconds, forming a uncomfortable squeeze.

"I've done everything for this family, you know," he whispered into her ear. "Saved you and your mom. Who knows where'd you be without me."

It took all of her will to keep from hyperventilating. So she did what she knew, and started counting.

_One, two, three... One, two, three..._

With his free hand, Calvin reached for the doorknob and opened the entry to Max's room.

Max knew she should cry, but no tears came.

She knew she should scream, but her voice had vanished.

So she retreated. She imagined life before this hell, before her father's death. Before the move from Arcadia Bay. When she had all the happiness she could handle.

When she had Chloe.


	2. Determination

Max squinted her eyes, silencing the morning rays of sunshine that pierced through her half-blinded window while she gingerly assembled the contents of her backpack. If she left soon, she could spend her entire Saturday out in the city, and never have to see Mom or Calvin. A goal worth striving for. Both of them were blessedly late risers.

The Polaroid instant camera, nestled comfortably on her desk, drew Max's attention. Her sole remaining passion, photography, afforded the excuse to spent most of the day out doors--away from the torture that had become family interaction. Unfortunately, Max's choice in instant photography was proving to be an inconvenient obsession. Calvin had established himself as the "bread winner" of the household, and saw little reason to spend his hard-earned cash on expensive film for a "fru-fru hipster" technology choice. For months now he'd been prodding Max to use a digital camera; he even offered to _buy_ her one. That stunned Max more than anything. Calvin's obsession with her made little sense.

 _Like he could undo what he's done with a fucking present? Does he really think I'll reciprocate, and think he's a great guy, if he drops a few hundred bucks on me? "Sorry about all the abuse, here, have a shiny toy!" Get real. But I guess telling mom_ did _actually have an impact_. _He never seemed bothered much by his behavior before. Not that telling Mom solved anything._

The bitter memory of telling Vanessa about Calvin froze Max in place. She became a statuette in the middle of her room, thoughts pulling her down into a maelstrom of dark memories...

* * *

"Maxine. This is my _brother_ you're talking about. He would _never_ do that."

"Mom," Max had cried, "I swear. I wouldn't make this up! Why would I make this up? Just ask him what he did last night while you were out. He'll do that wrist rubbing thing he always does when he--"

"That's _enough_ , daughter-of-mine," Vanessa broke in. Max stopped mid sentence, like a doe caught in the headlights of an oncoming car.

"I don't know where this is coming from," Vanessa continued. "Some half-hearted attempt to shift blame? Making up stories won't change reality, Maxine."

The venom in her mother's words hurt, but Max was determined to press forward. She didn't want to do it. She bit her lip, and displayed what she assumed would be proof. Her hands lifted her shirt, exposing a bruise down her midsection. Vanessa allowed a small gasp escape her lips in response. Max let the shirt fall back into place, ashamed, yet confident that her point was made.

A stupid, naive assumption.

"So you think hurting yourself is the answer, now? And blaming your uncle? I thought we raised you better than this, Maxine. You were always such a good girl. I swear. What would your father think?"

Her mother's blasé rejection left Max stunned. It had taken _weeks_ to summon the courage to have this conversation. Night after night of running through how it would go, trying to account for each line of dialog. But none of her simulations predicted this. Mom was supposed to break down--realize her mistake in trusting Calvin. This was supposed to be their moment to reconnect: for a mother to reaffirm her love of her daughter. Instead, things went in a different direction.

"Mom, p-please. I swear! I'm not making this--"

Once again, Vanessa cut her daughter off mid-sentence. "I won't hear any more of this. It's obvious I've been too lenient on you since your father's death. Allowed you to enter into all sorts of delusions of fantasy."

The insinuation that this was somehow _fantasy_ forced Max to take a step backwards, and steady herself to keep from falling over entirely. A wave a nausea descended, and the very thought of speaking again made her queasy. Vanessa took this as a sign of admission.

"I swear, Maxine. If you bring this up again with me, or god help you, our friends, I won't be able to protect you. You do know what happens when girls cry wolf about this _sort of thing_ , don't you?"

Max didn't know, but her mother's words instilled a terrifying reality into her mind. If her own flesh and blood thought she was a lair, what chance did she have? Who would believe her? Who would think this wasn't just some perverted cry for attention?

The conversation ended with Vanessa refocusing her attention to her phone's screen. Apparently a new tweet held greater appeal than sacrificing another moment of time to her daughter. Max slowly backed away, dejected, confused, and hurt. Her entire reality just had the rug swept out from under it, leaving no steady ground on which to stand.

_Maybe she's right. Maybe I do deserve this..._

* * *

Max snapped out of the painful memory when she realized her destination was coming up. Without a moment's hesitation she reached for the plastic cord above her that would request the next stop. Too little, too late. The bus blasted by 3rd & Pine, the coach driver completely ignoring her admittedly late request for a stop.

Not that it mattered much. Stops in downtown Seattle happened every few blocks, so all it meant was a few extra steps walking. Another something to fill the hours of the day. However, Max sullenly remembered why she avoided this next stop.

Stepping off the bus, she was greeted by the "Chase Space, a Modern Gallery to Capture the Spirit of the Times."

_As if. And to think I fantasized about my photos being shown here._

But Max couldn't prevent the the current display from drawing her attention. It still exhibited Jacob Landhauser's work from last year's contest. Much to her chagrin, she was forced to admit he boy had skill. Possibly more than her own. Sure, his familial connections might have bribed his way into first place, but the actual photography was nothing to scoff at. It was clear he had a passion for it.

Max reminisced on the past few days at school, since her cringe-worthy display at the lunch time moderated panel. Victoria and her crew hadn't let up the pressure: it was as if they were determined to drive Max to her end--to force her to take a final solution.

_Joke's on them. I enjoy being alive, thank you. I don't have so much pride that a couple of bullies could tempt me to end it. Fuck that._

Still, Max knew she was lying to herself if she claimed their repeated attacks didn't hurt. On Friday, one of them had managed to steal control of the morning's announcements. Which are voiced to the whole school, over the intercom.

" _And today's hot lunch is pizza, at seven dollars a slice. Or, if you're feeling soft, Maxine Caulfield will give you something hot at half the price! Her phone number is 206-33..."_

A teacher cut the announcer short before she could finish dictating the number. Max later learned that the incident was taken seriously by the administration, but not enough to actually dole out any meaningful punishments. The student who had made the announcement, Taylor, was given a slap on the wrist of two days suspension.

 _Benefits of having a dad that's friends with the principal, I suppose_. _Not that it matters. If it wasn't her, then it would've been someone else. Victoria's friends are legion._

Max shook herself free from Friday's nightmare and made her way towards Pike's Place Market. It was a cliche place for photos, Max knew, but she was hoping to get her shots framed correctly before the crowds showed up (as they always did).

The "piano man," as Max thought of him, always appeared with a spinet on rollers at the corner of an intersection of the market during the spring and summer months. Kind and grateful, the elderly gentleman played the most entrancing and somber melodies. They fit Max's mood perfectly. Finding the perfect photograph of him and his art became a quiet obsession of Max's--as if doing so could bring rationalization to her own state of mind.

The man himself didn't seem to care. Always making plenty off tips, he never paid Max any heed, and allowed her photograph away without any harassment. Max considered their silent relationship as a sort of special bond. They both recognized each other, and felt no reason to interfere in each other's art.

Of course, it was always possible that the pianist had never noticed Max, and this entitled familiarity existed entirely in her own head. After all, _he_ was the one drawing crowds, a feat Max had only dreamt of. Though she had the attention of her peers, their focus was most certainly not derived from her accomplishments.

Thoughtlessly, Max stepped out into an intersection on her way towards the market. Half way in she realized her mistake. A gray clunker of a vehicle, a truck so weathered and torn that the make was almost indistinguishable, rushed through a changing light, and very nearly ran over Max's foot. Max took an involuntary step back, shaken at how close she'd come to being converted into a teenage pancake. Oddly enough the only thing that saved her was the trucker's driver, who had honked loudly while plunging through the intersection. The noise pierced Max's earphones, saving her life.

 _Some drivers! I hope there's a special place in hell for recklessness like that. Yellow means slow_ down _, not speed_ up!

Lost in thought, Max crossed the road and started down the sidewalk on the other side. Like a sixth sense, she could feel the onset of focused attention. Slowly, she stopped, and looked around. Sure enough, Jacob Landhauser stood outside the local Mediterranean restaurant, holding a gyros in hand. He was flanked on either side by Victoria and his older brother Drew, both of whom were whispering into his ear.

Max had never interacted much with Drew, Jacob's athletic senior brother. Unlike Jacob, Drew had a large, intimidating presence, which he flaunted without hesitation. Freezing Max in her place with a glare, he called out, "Well if it isn't the little bitch herself. Seriously, check this shit out." He nudged Victoria, who nodded eagerly in affirmation.

"Girl thinks she's too good for us Landhausers," he continued. "Would be a pity if something happened to that ancient piece of shit she calls a camera."

Max gulped and clutched her Polaroid to her chest, while taking steps to slowly back away. A futile gesture. Drew closed the distance between them in seconds, a venerable body of muscle towering over Max, with a self-satisfied grin plastered across his face. Max tightened her grip on the camera, which she still held in front of her in defiance.

Drew smirked, and ripped the Polaroid from Max's grasp with the greatest of ease.

" _No,_ " Max pleaded as he held the camera high above her head, inches out of reach.

 _Seriously... this can't be happening! That camera is the_ one thing _I have left..._

Jacob, as always, looked bored. Victoria chortled, crossing her arms and leaning towards Jacob to whisper something. Jacob simply shrugged.

"You know, I always overhear your uncle complaining about this shit to my dad. How much does this little hobby cost your family, anyway? Three dollars a shot? Four? How about we--"

Max decided she had had enough. Gathering her will, she leapt into the air with both arms, gaining a handle on the camera. For a second she hung, suspended mid-air by Drew's single arm which also still held the camera. Drew's grin grew wider.

"Seriously, she's like a fucking cat, or something. Jacob, check this shit out!"

With a bored sounding "hrumph," Jacob finished his meal and threw the wrapper in a nearby trash can. Before Max could register what was happening, he snatched the camera from both Drew and Max, who had managed to lower Drew's arm back down to her own height. He considered the camera for a moment--and then, without a care in the world, tossed it into the street. Seconds later a passing semi truck smashed it to pieces. The driver honked, yelling "damn kids," or something similar, out his window as he passed. Max barely noticed.

Jacob returned to Victoria, who was just short of bowling over with laughter. Drew followed his brother, giving him a pat on the back. Throughout the whole ordeal, Jacob hadn't said a word. It was as if nothing of note had transpired. Holding back tears, Max stumbled for a few steps before breaking out into a run. She could hear Drew and Victoria's laughter grow louder as she put as much distance between them as she could, speeding aimlessly down the sidewalk. 

After a few blocks exhaustion set in, and she slowed the pace to a brisk walk.

 _I can't believe that just happened. What the... the HELL? I haven't_ done _anything. Don't they have anything better to do? And now... now what is there? Not as if I've got an allowance to replace my camera. Like I could replace that one anyway._

Max sniffled, remembering the happy memory of her fourteenth birthday. When her father had given the Polaroid as a present. Both her parents knew Max had wanted one since before moving, and receiving the camera felt like getting a piece of her childhood back.

_Great. Now... now what? Maybe the universe is just telling me to give up? It's been one horrible thing after the other since, well, since moving here. So much death, so much..._

Max shuddered, suppressing more recent, awful memories. Aimlessly, she kept walking, filtering through the growing crowds on Seattle's downtown sidewalks. It was mid morning now and the city was beginning to come alive with stores and restaurants opening for the day's business. After countless minutes, Max came to an abrupt and sudden stop. That haggard, dilapidated truck from earlier was parked sloppily against the curb. In a "load only" zone, no less. A quick glance up revealed it was parked just outside the Maddross Hotel. A place where you'd expect to see luxury vehicles, not something that looked one step away from an afterlife in a junkyard.

The driver was nowhere to be found. Max wasn't sure why, but she felt a sudden hatred for the vehicle well up within her. As if the truck was a bad omen. Without another thought she kicked a tire, as hard as she could. The only effect was a stubbed toe. But Max jumped clean into the air when she heard a shout directly behind her.

"Hey, feet off the goods!"

_Oh, fuck. Just perfect. Like this day couldn't get any worse._

Max bit her lip as a forceful hand on her shoulder swung her around. And the person accosting her was... not what she expected. The truck's owner wore a head of blue hair, protected by a beanie, of all things. She was styled head to toe in a classic punk-rock attire. She gave Max an irritated scowl before squinting her eyes. There was something oddly familiar about this person.

"Wait a sec," the girl muttered, giving Max a studied look.

The floodgates of recognition opened for Max the same moment they did Chloe. Both took a step back, exclaiming, "Max?!" and "Chloe?!" at the same time.

But the moment was over as soon as it started. Chloe's amazed expression quickly soured, and she pushed past Max to open the driver's side door.

"Chloe..." Max said softly, reaching out a little with one hand.

Chloe paused, one hand on the opened truck door, looking away towards the street. "I guess ghosting your best friend wasn't enough, huh? Gotta vandalize her car too?"

Max closed her mouth, heart thumping loudly in her chest. More than anything, she wanted to say something. To ask for forgiveness... anything to keep Chloe from getting into that truck's cabin, and disappearing forever. Chloe hung for a moment more, giving Max another look as she chewing the side of her cheek and rested one arm against her vehicle.

"You almost hit me, earlier, when I was trying to cross the street..." Max cursed herself as soon as the words left her mouth.

 _Idiot! What the hell, Max? How about_ not _accusing her of something right off the bat?_

But Max felt like she needed to explain why she kicked the truck, and those were the only words that came to mind.

"Oh, so now it's _my_ fault," Chloe replied. "Well, I'm _so sorry_ Max. Here, tell you what. I'll get in, drive off, and you'll _never_ have to worry about my sorry ass running you over again. This whole trip was a fucking waste, anyway. Makes perfect sense you'd show up though. Really completes this shit-tacular experience."

Max cringed at the implied sarcasm in Chloe's words, rubbing her arm while staring at the sidewalk. Chloe looked distraught as well, staring at the sky, the building, anywhere but at Max. After a few moments of silence, Chloe grunted, threw herself into the truck, and slammed the door. The truck roared to life and Chloe hit the gas, leaving a hurt and confused Max coughing in a plume of smoke.

* * *

"Maxine, have you seen my keys?" Vanessa pranced about the house frantically, looking under the haphazard array of cushions, pillows, and magazines that were strewn about their living room. She was dolled up with a revealing dress and several layers of make up.

Max, who had spent the remainder of her Saturday closeted away in her room, shook her head silently and set her focus back to the TV. Some mindless program was playing; Max didn't follow or care about its contents.

Just earlier, during dinner, Vanessa announced her plans to go out drinking with some friends. Max faced another evening alone with Calvin.

"How about you keep Mom company," Max had asked Calvin just an hour earlier, when they were seated around the family dining table, consuming a low-effort pre-frozen meal. "I'm sure her friends would love you..."

"Your mom needs her private time, Max. I wouldn't want to interfere," Calvin replied curtly as Max's question trailed off. He took another long swig of his beer.

_That's his fourth drink tonight. And it's only 6:00._

The day had taken a toll on Max. From her camera being destroyed, to her bitter reunion with Chloe, it took every ounce of determination not to break into random tears. She had hoped Mom would stay in tonight. That her encounter with Chloe was the last of the day's cruelties.

_But of course Mom's going out. And of course Calvin's just sitting around, getting drunk. I... I'm not going through this any more. Not today. I don't care what happens. This ends._

Max had thought of little else besides Chloe all day. Cursing herself over and over again for how she handled the situation.

 _We could've... I dunno... reconnected? She'd... she'd believe me. I'm sure of it. But she's so different! Those clothes, and that attitude._ Totally _not what I expected. It is pretty cool though..._

"Okay, I'm off! You two have a good evening, you hear? I'll be back late so don't wait up!"

Max remained silent while Calvin responded with an assenting grunt. The front door opened and shut, leaving the two of them alone.

Calvin tapped the side of his beer can, and finding it empty, rose to grab another from the fridge.

_Aaand that's number five._

Max curled her legs to her chest, and dug her head between her legs. She listened to as Calvin walked past and out into the back yard, sliding the glass door shut behind him. A quick glance showed he had went out for a cigarette. Heart racing, Max decided it was time to take action. She could grab some things, some food, some water. Extra changes of clothes. She knew being homeless had its own set of dangers... but anything would be better than this. The certainty of what would happen if she did nothing.

Max returned to her room and threw her backpack on to her bed. On her way over, she grabbed some granola bars and water bottles from the kitchen. Calvin had left his wallet on the coffee table, so she relieved it of a few hundred bucks. All the was left now was to pack a few pairs of clothes. Max quivered at quiet thrill of excitement. This was something she'd _thought_ about daily--hundreds of times. But she'd never gone this far. She'd never had the will. There was something different about today.

Distantly, Max heard knocking on the front door, followed by someone ringing the door bell.

_Probably just some salesman. No thank you._

Max gave her backpack, now full with clothes, food, money, and other assorted items, a satisfied look. She was ready. Her future was now an uncertain, scary prospect. But it beat the horrible reality of staying in place. Of doing nothing.

Her cell phone, set to silent, started ringing from inside her backpack. Without a second thought she silenced it by gripping the sides. The only calls she got these days were from classmates. And they were always mean.

With a sigh, Max double checked that she had everything she needed. There would be no going back after this.

_Time to cross this Rubicon. Good-bye Mom, Calvin. I won't miss you._

A light tapping on her window caused Max to very nearly leap out of her skin. She swirled around, and saw what she quickly recognized to be Chloe's face staring back at her from the other side of the glass. Max gasped, frozen, totally confused about why _she_ would be here right _now_. Didn't Chloe hate her guts, by this point?

Chloe knocked a few more times, her face changing to an expression of slight annoyance. As if by impulse, Max moved to her window, released the lock, and raised it up.

With only air between them, Chloe quirked her head to the side.

"So, gonna let me in, or what?"

Max blinked, and promptly backed up a few steps, allowing Chloe to awkwardly shove herself through the small opening in the window. Once inside, she arched into full stretch, and took in her surroundings. Her eyes landed quickly on the backpack.

"Going somewhere?"

"No! I, uh, well..."

Max let her words linger, unsure of how to proceed. Chloe crossed her arms, taking a few exaggerated strides around the room.

"Sorry about the whole window thing," she started. "Not trying to creep on you or anything. But no one answered the door, and you didn't answer your phone."

_Shit. Wow, of course. Good job, Max. But... what is she doing here? I thought the way we left things this morning was pretty final. Not that I'm complaining... I swear I've had a fantasy just like this before. Have I finally snapped?_

"H-how did you even get here, Chloe," was all Max could think to ask.

"Uh, with my truck? You know, that thing with four wheels? Consumes gasoline, has an engine? Helped create the modern world?"

"You know what I mean, Chloe. I don't remember ever giving you my address here..."

"Oh. Yeah, uh, my Mom got it from yours, before you guys moved. Figured if I was going to be up in Seattle, I could, you know, if I had the time. Could like, drop in. Or whatever." Chloe looked away, clearly embarrassed about something.

_She's had my address all this time? Okay..._

Both girls fell silent again. Chloe cleared her throat nervously. "Listen, Max. About this morning. I just wanted to--I was pretty pissed, right at that moment. And I sort of unloaded on you."

 _Is she... is she_ apologizing _? Does this mean... maybe she doesn't hate me?_

Max couldn't prevent the thought to giving rise to a ridiculous fantasy. Of grabbing her backpack, hoping into Chloe's truck, and ditching Seattle, along with all it's pain and misery. The two of them laughing, apologizing, and re-establishing their bond.

"No, Chloe," Max replied. " _I_ should be the one apologizing. It's--"

Max paled when she heard heavy steps approaching down the hallway, outside her room. Mercifully, her bedroom's door was shut. With a scrambled, hairbrained look, she grabbed Chloe by both arms.

"Listen, Chloe, you've gotta hide. He'll go crazy if he finds you here."

Chloe's expression narrowed, a dark cloud forming across her face. She allowed Max to push her towards the walk in closet, where she hid herself without further words.

Seconds later, Calvin burst into the room. Max, relieved that Chloe was safely hidden, couldn't help but notice gun strapped to her uncle's side.

"Maxine Caulfied, you little shit. Did you steal from me? My wallet had three hundred dollars in it, and it's _gone_."

Moments later, he saw the backpack on the bed.

"Going somewhere? Planning a little... _trip_?" He took a step towards the bed, but then stopped, turning to give Max a furious glare. Max remained frozen, her heart pounding, the steady _thump_ of its increased tempo ringing in her ears.

Even while drunk, Calvin could move _fast_. Max didn't even notice him close the distance between them. Angrily, he placed a firm hand around her throat, lifting her up to her toes.

"Hey! Fucker!" Chloe shouted as she threw open the door to the closet and stepped out. She pointed an accusatory finger directly at Calvin.

_Oh god. Oh no. Please, no._

"Get your hand _off_ her, you fucking freak!"

For a moment Calvin was too startled by the sudden presence of this unknown girl in "his" house to react. But the moment passed, and without words he dropped Max, who collapsed to the floor, struggling for breath.

Chloe, however, wasn't done. With a balled fist, she threw a punch at Calvin, and landed a solid hit his cheek. Calvin barely seemed to notice.

"Who... who the _hell_ are you? And what are you doing in my house? This is trespassing, you know. That's  _illegal_. I'll arrest you, right here."

"Yeah? So is domestic fucking violence, you prick," Chloe shot back. She appeared nerved that her best punch had done nothing to affect the man, but she kept her composure. "Just wait until I report this shit. You're going to federal fuck-me-in-the-ass prison."

 _That_ gave Calvin a start. He narrowed his eyes, fingers twitching at his side. They settled on his weapon, forming a tight grip around the pistol. Chloe seemed to notice, for the first time, the gun, and took a step back, raising her hands in front of her.

"H-hey, listen, let's--", she managed to stammer.

Both girls jumped when Calvin cut Chloe off, his voice raised to a barking roar. " _Intruder! Stop, or I'll shoot!"_

Chloe gave Max, who remained paralyzed with fear, a confused expression.

"T-the hell, dude? I'm just standing r-right here," she stammered.

" _I said stop!"_ Calvin ordered. Another second passed, and Calvin popped open the strap that secured the gun in its holster. He raised the weapon, and aimed it towards Chloe's chest.

"Whoa, hey, man, put that thing away," Chloe's earlier swagger had left completely. Max's heart broke as she heard the fear in Chloe's voice. "Seriously, this isn't fucking funny--"

As the gun went off, Max screamed, though no sound left her lips. Helplessly, she watched as Chloe plunged backward, as if slammed by an invisible force. A well of red began to form between her breasts.

Then the whole world began to scream: as if every aspect of reality cried out in protest. Time began to slow--like some phantom train conductor had slammed the breaks, leaving only Max free to witness the effects. Just when everything had reached a standstill, Max saw the bullet casing, which had only a second prior hit the carpet, leap back into the air. She gasped in awe as the scene played itself backwards, and the rush of it filled her head with an omnipresent noise, cancelling out all else. Reality became a whirlwind of motion, blurry shapes darting back and forth, until the pressure became too much, and Max gripped her head, screaming.

The pain lifted, and the noise vanished. Max released her hands from her head, and fell silent. She was in her room. Neither Chloe nor Calvin were present. Her backpack was on the bed, but lacked bulk her clothes had added.

_What. The hell. Did I just... what? What just happened? Am I losing my mind? Is this what it's like to go crazy?_

As if to answer her question, she heard a light rapping on the window behind her. When Max turned around, she gulped. Staring back at her was Chloe's face. Alive and well.


	3. Defiance

_No way. It's... just not possible! What's... what's happening to me?_

Awestruck at seeing Chloe's expectant face in her window, Max pushed through the shock and carefully replayed the last few minutes in her head. Chloe had climbed through the window, into her room. She had apologized about this morning. Max couldn't help but feel a small glow at that. But then Calvin busted in--he had noticed Max stole the cash from his wallet. How the hell did he notice that so quickly?

Max shook her head, letting the thought slide. Next, Calvin had grabbed her by the throat--Max involuntarily moved a hand to feel her neck--then Chloe interrupted. Chloe threatened Calvin... and then... the unthinkable happened. Was any of that reality? Did those events actually transpire?

Chloe knocked on the window a few more times, becoming clearly irritated at Max, who was just staring back, jaw agape, in the middle of her room.

_R-right. Well... whatever that was, it was too real to ignore. And Chloe's right here! Again! But if she's here to apologize, then that means..._

How to proceed? Max felt pulled in a million directions at once. Should she invite Chloe back in, to her possible death? Scare her away? Try to explain what happened? Max scoffed internally at the thought.

 _Like she'd believe_ that _. "Oh, hi Chloe! We should really move this along, because in a few minutes my crazy uncle is going to barge in and murder you in cold blood." Yeah. Sure.  
_

Realizing that Chloe was reaching an end to her patience, Max raised a finger to signal "wait." She needed at least a few more seconds. Just before the insanity of the past few minutes, she had been ready to leave everything behind. To run away, to become a missing persons statistic. What did she have to lose?

Max grabbed the backpack off her bed and gave her room a thorough look.

_Guess this is it? Farewell, room. I won't miss you._

Max jumped as she heard Calvin's footsteps approaching down the hallway, just as they had before.

_Oh shit, it's happening. It's fucking happening. Oh god._

Wasting no more time, Max threw open the window, and pushed herself through the opening, forcing Chloe to take a step back.

"M-Max? What's up? Was actually kinda planning to say something, hopefully not out here..."

"Chloe, please," Max begged, an earnest plea filling her voice. Chloe returned a confused look, but nevertheless gave her attention.

"Listen," Max continued, "can we just get out of here? Like, right now?"

"Yowza girl, uh, yeah. Gotta admit, not how I expected this to go down. But, yeah, sure. I'm parked just out on the street."

Max, in what she thought was a rather bold gesture, grabbed Chloe's hand, and towed her just short of a run around the side of the house, towards the street. Behind them, Calvin's drunken voice filled the air.

"MAXINE? Where the _fuck_ did you go? There's going to be _hell_ to pay when your mother learns about this! You know you can't run!"

The sound of her uncle's voice caused Max to quicken the pace. Chloe's eyes widened a little, and her hand tightened around Max's. She hurried to keep up.

"Uh, Max? That didn't sound like Ryan," she questioned.

"My uncle," Max replied between hasty breaths. "Trust me, you _don't_ want to meet him."

"Roger that," Chloe affirmed as they climbed into the truck. Just as Max shut her door, she saw Calvin approaching down the front lawn, only meters away from where they were parked. He made immediate eye contact with Max.

"Chloe, _drive_ ," Max ordered, voice barely above a whisper.

Chloe slammed the gas, and the truck lunched forward. In the rear view mirror, Max caught sight of Calvin stepping out into the street, phone raised in front of him.

* * *

"Alright Max," Chloe said as she parked the truck in an empty parking lot outside a small strip mall, the kind that always has a Subway and a smoke shop. "Story time. What the hell was that?"

Neither girl had spoken during their hasty getaway. Chloe remained focused on the road, and Max used the time to process everything that had just happened.

 _Just, like, wowsers. I saw Chloe_ die. _I'm sure of it. But she's right_ here _, next to me. I'm... I'm not crazy! Though, isn't that a crazy person would say? Still, everything happened this time like it did before. Chloe appeared, and Calvin was walking down the hallway. Did I... can I...?_

Snapping back to reality, Max realized it had been a few seconds since Chloe spoke.

"C-Chloe," Max stuttered, "that was... that was Calvin. My Mom's older brother."

"Okaaay," Chloe intoned. "And why the fuck was he barking up the whole neighborhood? And what was with the great escape?"

"He, I..." Max found herself stuck. She had to explain Calvin, and her own, behavior, _somehow._ But doing would mean... She bit her lip, unable to progress forward. She had only talked about it once, to Mom. And that didn't go over well. Who's to say Chloe wouldn't react in the same way? Would she think that Max was just crying for attention? Chloe did come to apologize, but it was a bit of a stretch to think that Chloe's olive branch gave Max the right to dump her personal baggage all over her. Chloe had to have baggage as well. Baggage that Max had ignored for years. A knot formed in Max's stomach, and she just couldn't say the words. So, maybe, a half truth?

"He was... was pissed that I stole money from him." Max felt she needed to prove the statement, and drew out the wad of cash from her backpack. Chloe's expression grew wide upon seeing the money.

"Heh, whoo," Chloe whistled. "Wow Max. Look at you. Stealing monies from the family. Gotta admit, never took you for a bad-girl."

"It's not--I'm not... this is the first time I've done it. Look, it was a stupid thing."

Chloe waved off Max's explanation. "Dude, chill. It's cool--I totally get it. This guy, your uncle, is a prick, right?"

Max nodded silently in agreement. She remained conflicted about how much to say, but if Chloe was going to point out truths herself, then might as well go with it.

"So why put up with it? I'll bet Ryan could kick his ass."

_That's... that's right. We never told the Prices. Our parents were never very good friends, and the thought of telling Chloe on my own was just... I couldn't do it. Like, I'd be stealing her thunder, or something. Pretty stupid. Like everything I do._

"Chloe... my Dad, he... he passed away. Last year. There was an accident."

Chloe's charged demeanor vanished immediately after hearing the words. For a moment she opened her mouth, closed it, then opened it again, clearly unsure of how to proceed.

Finally, she placed a tentative hand on Max's shoulder. "Max, I'm... I'm sorry. Shit, I... I know how... how horrible that is..."

"I know," Max replied, her voice fading to a whisper. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you. That was... shitty of me."

Chloe gave Max's shoulder a light squeeze. "Don't even dare, Caulfield." She allowed a moment of silence to float between them before continuing. "So. Looks like we're both fucked up, huh?"

Max brushed away a small tear that had formed in her eye. Relating her dad's death, added on top of everything that had happened this evening, was just too much. "Yeah. That's putting it mildly."

Chloe released Max's shoulder and placed both hands behind her head, staring up at the cabin's stained and spotted ceiling. The pair spent the next few minutes going over Max's home life since Ryan died. Max hid the ugly details, still unable to bring them up. But she related how Calvin had established himself as "head" of the household. She spoke about his bossy and controlling behavior, and how it contrasted against his "other life" as a respected cop who did community outreach. By the time she was done, Max realized she had completely skipped her drama at school. Frankly, it seemed to pale in comparison to her other troubles.

"Jesus Max. I don't wanna say I _know what you mean_ , but I think I know what you mean. My Mom remarried a prick who sounds a _lot_ like Calvin. 'Cept, you know. They're not related. Gross. That is _weird_ , right? That her brother just, moved his ass in?"

"Preaching to the choir, Chloe. I mean, it was only supposed to be temporary. Until Mom got a steady income, and Calvin found a new place to live. But then they both just kind of, settled in. Mom likes to party. Calvin likes to sit at home and drink. It works out for them."

As Max finished speaking, it happened. Again. A quiver ran through her right hand. Ever since... _whatever_ it was, she'd noticed a strange new sensation, pulsing and swirling through her body. It always ran down her arm, culminating into the tips of her fingers. It was stupid, but she felt like she could move the world, with nothing more than a gesture. For the first time in her life, she felt _powerful_. Which was silly, of course. But she couldn't shake the feeling.

Brushing the sensation aside, Max returned her attention to Chloe. "So, what brings you to Seattle, anyway? Surely it wasn't yours truly."

Chloe's expression darkened a bit, and she stared out the windshield, resting her hands on the wheel. "It's... complicated. A friend of mine, Rachel, drove up from to Seattle a while back, to do some photo shoot. We were-- _are_ ," she quickly corrected herself, "--hella best friends. Like, soulmates sorta shit. Anyway. She wanted to become a model, and this was her first real shot at it. But she never came back. Won't answer her phone. No one's heard from her... it's like she dropped off the face of the earth."

"God, Chloe. That's... horrible. Did her parents talk to the police? Did they file a missing persons report?"

Chloe nodded in reply. "And  _everyone_ has been dragging their feet ever since. They just keep assuming she ditched us! That she ran away to live some bullshit second life. But she wouldn't _do_ that, Max. She wouldn't _leave_ me," Max winced a bit at the sound of Chloe's voice cracking. Chloe hit the wheel with her wrists, emphasizing her frustration. "She'd fucking _say_ something."

Max gulped, her own history with Chloe coming to the forefront of her mind. As if realizing the implications of what she said, Chloe quickly continued, "So, yeah. After a while I got sick of waiting, and decided to look into it myself." Chloe pulled a post card from a clip on the truck's sun visor and handed it to Max. On one side was a shot of Seattle's skyline, the typical tourist picture found everywhere. The other side had a scrawled, hand written note from Rachel. The return address listed a room number at the Maddross Hotel.

"Chloe, wasn't this the hotel from yesterday...?"

"The one and the same, Max. And, hey. Actually, about that..."

"You wanted to apologize, right?"

Chloe appeared a bit taken a back by Max's presumption, and crossed her arms. "Maybe I did, maybe I didn't. Who's to say?"

A small smile formed on Max's lips. "Apology accepted, regardless. And I'm sorry, too. I shouldn't've kicked your truck."

The moment was interrupted by Max's cell phone. The screen displayed a happy looking Vanessa. A picture taken from before the accident.

"Oh shit, Calvin must've called my Mom," Max realized. "She's probably going ballistic right now, I ruined her night out..."

"So screen that shit," Chloe suggested, making a swiping motion with her thumb. "Who cares?"

"I'd... better at least say something." Max's excitement about running away had cooled since leaving the house, and its harsh reality had begun to set in. Could she really just up and leave her mother? Was Chloe "cool" with her tagging along, or would she have to strike it on her own? And school? Was she ready to be a high school drop out? How would she eat? And she didn't even have any clothes--those got left behind. She had memories of packing them, but then... _whatever it was,_ happened.

Before she knew it, Max answered the phone. Chloe rolled her eyes, and leaned away to look out the driver's side window.

Max put the phone to her ear, and immediately drew it back a few inches, as Vanessa's screeching made her jump in her seat.

" _Maxine Caulfield! I just got off the phone with your uncle. You have_ no idea _how much trouble you're in! Stealing money? Running off? I just had to talk Calvin down from calling his buddies at the SPD. They're going to put out an warrant for your_ arrest _Max! Do you have any idea how serious this is?"_

_Oh shit, that's right. Stupid! Of course he'd get all vindictive. What the hell was I thinking, rifling through his wallet?_

"Mom. It's okay, just let me explain. I've--"

" _Let me stop you right there Maxine. There's no explaining. No excuses. No more lies! You're coming home,_ right now _, or else you're spending the night in jail. He's got the license plate of that truck you drove off in. Don't you dare think you'll get anywhere!"_

Months of subjugation began to set in, and Max realized how foolish this all was. Like she could escape--run off into the sunset, leaving everything behind. Of course they would come after her. Of course she would get caught. For a moment, she wished her family was a bit more like this fabled Rachel Amber's. That she could just leave and disappear... fade away into obscurity.

Meanwhile, Chloe had leaned back to listen in on the conversation. She gave Max a "wtf?" glance, and blanched when she heard about the license plate number.

_I can't get Chloe into trouble over this. Looks like things have been hard enough on her as-is. It's... it's time to end this. So long freedom, I barely knew thee...  
_

Trying her best to keep her tone even, Max spoke into the phone. "Mom, please. I'm coming home, okay? I'll return the money. It was stupid, I know. And I'm _so sorry._ Just, just please! Don't call the cops. We'll be there in less than fifteen minutes, I swear."

" _Who's_ we, _Maxine? Who are you with?"_

_Stupid, stupid, stupid!_

More than anything else, Max did _not_ want her Mom to know about Chloe's sudden re-appearance in her life. Events today had taken an ugly, chaotic turn, but reconnecting with Chloe had been a light in a dark place. She wanted to hold it safe, to guard it against the miasma that was daily life.

"Just--just an uber, Mom. I'll be home, I swear."

" _Don't think I can't tell you're lying to me, Maxine. I_ know _you."_

Max decided she had had enough. Either Mom was going to call Calvin off, or she wasn't. All she could do at this point was pray. Well, that, and hit the "end call" button, an action that brought with it no small sense of satisfaction.

* * *

 _Well, that could've been worse_ , was Max's first thought after confronting Vanessa and Calvin. Calvin hadn't run Chloe's license number. Max began to suspect he never even had it--that it was too dark, and the photo didn't turn out. The sense that Chloe was safe from her family felt good, and helped to drown her mother's screeches.

But, as it turned out, it _was_ worse.

Chloe dropped Max off at her house after making a date to catch up more tomorrow, as well as discuss the Rachel Amber situation. Max then proceeded to endure over an hour of drunken verbal harassment from both Vanessa and Calvin. Vanessa was furious that her "girl's night out" was ruined, and Calvin--while relieved that he did get his money back--was incensed that Max had the gumption to steal from _him_.

When they finally winded themselves, they sent Max to her room, where she was to remain grounded until school on Monday. That alone wouldn't have been so bad. Chloe could wait a day. But they took her _phone_. Peeved, Max decided she would just skip out her window again. There's _no way_ she could leave Chloe hanging! Not _again_. It wasn't as if she had a laptop, or a desktop computer in her room. Without her phone, she was completely cut off. Getting Chloe's number could be tricky, but she still remembered the Price household's old landline number. Surely Joyce would give Max Chloe's cell.

However, her heart stopped cold upon entering her room. Calvin had installed locks on the window: it was completely immobilized. Behind her, she heard Calvin shut the door, and listened to the sound of a bolt sliding into place on the other side. Another lock that hadn't existed before. Dread welled up within her--this was no longer her room. It was a jail cell.

That was over an hour ago, and panic was beginning to take hold. What if Chloe was trying to text her? How would she react when Max didn't reply? Even worse, would Mom see the texts? Max was mostly confident neither Calvin nor Vanessa knew her phone's pass key, but she couldn't help but be terrified at the prospect that they _did_ know, and that they would reply to Chloe _as her_.

Frustrated, Max rose from her bed, where she had just spent the last thirty minutes curled up into a ball, and began pacing her room. Dimly, she could hear Vanessa and Calvin arguing about something, but she couldn't make out any words.

And then the sensation hit again. Curious, Max raised her right hand into the air, examining it as if it were a foreign object.

 _What is_ with _this? It feels like something's pushing me to_ do _something. But what?_

So she decided to fulfill the urge of the almost-instinctive pulse, instructing her to stretch out her hand. Tantalizingly close, she could feel a glowing well of power just at her finger tips. So she grabbed it.

The world twisted, molded, bowed and flexed, like a Van Goth painting being rendered before her eyes. Before long, however, Max felt a screaming, white hot pressure fill her head, and was forced to lower her hand. When she did, nothing of note had changed. Everything was in the same place. But then she heard the Calvin and Vanessa's muffled voices again. They sounded _exactly_ the same--as if they were having the same argument.

Recalling the day's earlier event, Max looked at her wall clock, took note of the time, and tried again.

* * *

All worries about her phone had completely faded from mind. All Max could consider now was the fact that she could _rewind time_. The words still sounded strange in her head, like she was suddenly cast as the protagonist of an especially strange episode of _The Twilight Zone_. Her predicament suddenly felt less onerous: being cloistered away offered ample _time_ (Max snickered to herself) to test and stress the limits of her power. To see what it could do. What _she_ could do. Perhaps the most amazing was that her position in space didn't change through the rewind. Also intriguing was that she could bring small objects with her.

It took half-hour for the implications to hit her: she could break free from her room. _And no one would know._ And it was time to put theory to the test.

"Okay, let's do this. You can do this," Max encouraged herself aloud.

In her hand, she held the lamp that was normally situated on her nightstand. It had a sturdy, marble base. Exactly what Max needed.

_Here goes nothing..._

With all her strength, she slammed the lamp, base first, against her single-pained window. It blasted apart with a satisfying shatter. Max stood for a moment, stunned at her accomplishment. From outside her room, she heard Calvin yell something.

_It's now or never, Max!_

Taking care to avoid the pointed shards that remained in the window frame, Max eased her way through. After setting foot on the ground outside, she turned around to see Calvin opening her door, his expression furious.

Max smiled, raised her hand, and moved everything backward. Calvin disappeared, the door shutting in front of him. The glass rose into the air and reformed the original window. When she let go, it was as if nothing had changed. Except, of course, for the fact that she was outside.

_Oh my god. I am Houdini._

* * *

Some rather _indeterminate_ amount of time later, Max lay on her bed, a satisfied smile on her face. In her hands she held her phone, which had taken a few attempts to retrieve. The shocked expressions of Vanessa and Calvin as she darted through the living room were icing on the cake.

But the phone was returned to her, with Mom and Calvin none the wiser. She had considered running off again, but thought the better of it. The repeated use of her power was draining, and more than anything right now, she wanted to sleep. So she had "broken back" into her bedroom, and flopped down on her bed.

But before sleep, she needed to check in on Chloe. Sure enough, Chloe had texted her shortly after dropping her off at home.

 

> **Chloe:**  
>  let me know how everything goes  
>  your mom sounded crazy pissed

And a half hour later:

 

> **Chloe:**  
>  you there? getting bad vibes, max

And an hour later:

 

> **Chloe:**  
>  getting freaked over here, not cool...  
>  we're still on for tomorrow right?

Max curled her lip and waggled her legs in the air behind her while she decided how to respond.

 

> **Max:**  
>  Sorry! Mom stole my phone, had to get it back
> 
> **Chloe:**  
>  bitch!  
>  uh, sorry. but, only you know. not.
> 
> **Max:**  
>  It's cool. And yes tomorrow. Have something totally hardcore to show you.
> 
> **Chloe:**  
>  As someone who hates all emojis: O_O
> 
> **Max:**  
>  Dork. But steel yourself. Prepare to be amazed.
> 
> **Chloe:**  
>  this had better be good  
>  i have high standards
> 
> **Max:  
>  ** We can't meet at my place. Pick me up down the road, end of the street? 9:00?
> 
> **Chloe:**  
>  i think there's an opening in my schedule

Still grinning, Max set down the phone, and rolled onto her back, facing the ceiling. Despite the misfortune, hell, and terror her life had become, she felt... _giddy_. Like, somehow, from here on out, everything was going to be okay. She was still afraid of Calvin, but the fear was tempered by the knowledge that any time he'd come looking, she could be long gone.

_This is like some kids show, or anime. Only not! But I do need to be careful with this power. Who knows how long it'll last? Or what sort of effects it might have? Anyway, there has to be a reason for this. And its got to be connected with Chloe. She's why I have this power in the first place. I'm sure of it. This... this feels like destiny.  
_

Max continued her texts with Chloe for a while longer before pleading exhaustion, and drifting off to sleep, thoughts pressed firmly on the exciting Sunday ahead of her.


	4. Doubt

"Come on, Max. I'm not _that_ easy," Chloe rebuked. Eyes narrowing, she added, "this _better_ not be what you were so excited to show me last night." She shot Max an incredulous look while waiting a response, and brought a mug of coffee to her lips.

It was mid-Sunday morning, and the girls found themselves seated in a generically named diner on the outskirts of the south end. Nautical decorations and a time lapse history Seattle's growth in pictures surrounded them on all sides, providing an artistic presentation of how the city had grown from humble roots to the economic powerhouse it was today. The diner's patronage seemed to be gruff, blue collar middle-aged men, inhaling in their eggs and bacon before going to work for the day.

"Mmph," Max mumbled through a mouthful of pancakes, "It's true! I can totally prove it."

"Pancakes instead of waffles? Time travel?" Chloe asked in mock bemusement. "Who are you, and what have you done with Maxine Caulfield?"

_I guess I should've come up with a better plan? That's cute she remembered my favorite breakfast. But the yelp review said the waffles here kind of suck. Ugh. Stay focused, Max. I hate having to think on my feet like this. Of course she wouldn't just take my word for it. So, come on! Improvise!_

"Har har, Chloe," Max replied between a swallow and another bite, taking time to chew over a plan. After another power-aided escape from her room, Max met up with Chloe at the prescribed time and, with neither of them having eaten anything that morning, they decided to grab some grub before tackling the day. Things at home went as smooth as could be expected--Vanessa let Max out of her room to use the bathroom, but watched like a hawk until she returned to her room. Max's flippant, almost happy, behavior seemed to cause her mother no small bit of agitation. It was the little things, Max decided, that she could take pleasure in.

 _Alright. How can I prove to Chloe beyond any doubt that I'm for real? I could steal her beanie... no, she'd just assume slight-of-hand. Way more reasonable than freakin'_ time travel.

Max pulled out her phone and started the stop watch. Seconds would count for this demonstration, and she didn't want to freak Chloe out _too_ much.

"Okay Chloe. A few moments after I finish this sentence, I'm going to travel through space _and_ time."

Chloe scoffed. "Ooo! Wow! You know what, I think I might have powers too! Behold, and fear me!" Chloe raised her arms above her head, hands dangling forward in a mocking gesture. "Watch in awe as this rebel punk traverses the space-time continuum at--the speed of... time!"

Brushing off Chloe's attitude with a wave, Max rose from her seat in the booth and walked toward the bathrooms.

From behind her she heard Chloe call out, "You know, if you need to use the little-girls room, you can just _say_ so, Max. It's cool, I won't judge!" Max didn't grace her friend with a response as she slid into the bathroom. A moment later, she and activated her rewind, first pulling out her phone to keep careful track of the seconds.

 _Three... two... one... perfect_. _Dog, I should've done this in view of her. She's going to have the best expression on her face._

As promised, Max exited the bathroom, finding a pale-stricken Chloe staring across the diner at her, hands still raised above her head, though they had completely frozen in place. She looked at the empty seat, at Max, and then back again. She moved her jaw several times to try and say something, but didn't seem able to find the words. Suppressing a smirk, Max strolled back to her table, sliding into the booth with a "plop," and resting her head on her hands while staring at Chloe from the across the table.

It took a solid fifteen seconds for Chloe to remember how to talk.

"H-how... that was, that was _amazeballs_ , Max. You just, you fucking _disappeared_."

Max couldn't suppress a growing, sly smirk at Chloe's reaction. "And that's how we're going to get dirt on Rachel."

On their way to get breakfast Chloe had elaborated a bit more about her presence the other day at the Maddross hotel, just prior to their troubled reunion. After finding them to be of no help over the phone, Chloe decided to drive up from Arcadia Bay and confront the hotel's staff in person. On the phone, the service desk repeatedly claimed that no one by the name of Rachel Amber had ever stayed there. And that, on the date in question, the room was empty. Asking them in person didn't change the story. They eventually called security to escort Chloe out of the building when she started causing a scene. Apparently angry punks yelling and screaming in the middle of the main entry lobby is not good for business.

_Guess that explains her attitude when we met outside. But... has Chloe considered if what they're saying is the truth? Could Rachel have misdirected Chloe? Maybe she just really doesn't want to be found? But if that was the case, why would she send a postcard? Argh, none of this makes sense. Chloe's right... we're going to have to figure this out for ourselves._

"Back up a minute, McFly," Chloe ordered. "So just how long have you had superpowers?"

_Shit, that's right. How much should I tell her? No one would like hearing about their own death..._

"Since just last night, Chloe. It's how I got my phone back, to text you. It's also why..." Max trailed off, feeling unsure of herself.

_I mean, if she doesn't react well, or doesn't believe me, I can just take it back. But do I have the right to know her reaction, without accepting the consequences? Is every relationship I have with people, from here on out, going to be fake?_

Gulping, she decided to take a step off the proverbial cliff. "Chloe... yesterday, when we ran off, and Calvin was yelling at us..."

"Do remember," Chloe interrupted. "Go on..."

"That's not the way it happened. First time, you came into my room. You apologized about snapping at me. And then... Calvin found us. You threatened him, and he... went _ballistic_ , Chloe. He--he shot you. When I saw you die, that was the moment. But I didn't have a chance to understand what was happening. You showed up at my window again almost immediately. I was so freaked, Chloe."

A silence fell between them, Chloe sitting back to munch on Max's words. He expression softened, and reached out to put a hand on Max's shoulder.

"I... I believe you, Max. Crazy fucker. Can't trust any of these assholes."

"We can trust each other, Chloe."

"Damn straight."

* * *

On their way to the hotel, Max was again lost in thought. There was so much to chew on, and everything was happening so fast. But Chloe's problems, as serious as they were, came as a welcome distraction. Max was out of the house, in good company, and had a _purpose._ And Chloe's increasing reverence of her powers didn't hurt, either. Max had almost forgotten how it felt to receive positive attention. And it felt _good_. Briefly, she considered bringing up what was really going on at home. Or at school. But more than anything she didn't want to ruin this wonderful dynamic that had so easily re-formed between her and her childhood bestie. Though a few years had passed, and they were obviously different people now, Chloe's presence and conversation brought with it a comfortable nostalgia; of a more innocent time in Max's life. Max worried that bringing up... darker things... might burst the bubble. She decided, for now, she'd earned some respite. For just a while longer, she wanted play investigation with Chloe, and pretend her home and school life didn't exist.

The unhealthy whines and creaks of Chloe's truck ground to an unsteady stop as she parked the vehicle, their destination looming above to their right. Max, seated in the passenger's seat, took an uneasy look a the luxury tower. Its impressive stature and decor made her squeamish about setting foot inside. This place was obviously for the rich, the famous. For the celebrities implored to display their wealth, or important politicians determined to spend tax payer money. She knew that a modest girl like herself, dressed in jeans and a hoodie, would stick out like a sore thumb.

_Am I ready for this? This is like, breaking an entering? Kind of?_

"Time to storm this castle, Maximus," Chloe remarked, giving Max an expectant look.

Reality began to set in, and Max squirmed uncomfortably in her seat. "Time to crash and burn, more like," she countered hesitantly.

"Come _on_ , Max," Chloe encouraged. "You've got _super powers_. No one can touch your little hipster ass."

"This is all just... so _insane_ ," Max replied. "And we know so little about how my powers work. I don't want to wind up tearing apart reality."

Chloe sat a moment, a pout forming on her lips. "If you wanna just bail, Max, say so. I can finish this myself..."

"No!" Max almost shouted back. "It's fine, Chloe. Just wait here, okay? They already know your face. You'll only slow me down."

Chloe rolled her eyes a bit. "Nice to know where I stand, Caulfield."

"Ugh, come on, Chloe. You know what I mean."

"Well then, go on! Don't let my muggle ass get in your way."

Max huffed a little as she opened her door, turning her body to move out of the truck. But her exit was held back abruptly by Chloe grabbing her arm, just tight enough to make her gasp.

 _You_ owe _me, Max. You and your useless mother. You're going to be a good girl, right? This is between_ us _. What we have is special._ The grip on her arm intensified, growing into a small burning sensation. _If it weren't for me you'd be homeless. Probably be like all those other working girls on the street, turning tricks to score their next hit of smack._ She knew escape was hopeless. That squirming only made him tighten his grip. She tried anyway. _You should be thankful. It's not as if I'm asking for the world here, Max..._

"Max? Max!"

Max broke from the memory to find Chloe snapping a finger in front of her face.

"C-Chloe," Max managed to stutter, trying to slow her heart rate and regain a sense of calm. She was still in the truck. The door was still half way open. The hum and drum of the city surrounded them, faint honks and squealing brakes sounding off at random intervals. Chloe had released her grip, but her hand remained in contact, settled onto Max's shoulder.

"Dude. You _seriously_ look like you just saw a ghost," Chloe stated. Her eyes were full of worry.

_How long was I out?_

"Did you already use your powers, or something?"

"N-no! Not yet. Sorry. Just... just spaced, is all. Don't--I'm fine. I'll be fine," Max rambled as she wormed out of the truck, leaving a worry-faced Chloe staring after her.

"Max..."

"I'm _fine_ , Chloe," Max shot back, shutting the door with a bit more intensity than she had meant.

_Great going, Max. Why don't you bite her head off too, while you're at it?_

But it seemed too awkward to press things further. Max turned to take in the hotel building, her eyes settling on the main entry way. She didn't know what she just experienced was, and it was deeply unnerving. But she needed to press it down, and focus. It was showtime.

* * *

"Max?"

Beads of sweat had formed over Max's blushed face, her normally pale complexion beet red from having run harder than anytime in recent memory. Physical education was never her strong suite. Gripped between her two hands was a manilla folder, a hard-won prize after what seemed like an eternity of warping around the Maddross hotel's interior.

_God, I feel woozy. How much time has passed? Chloe's truck is still here..._

"Earth to Max! Dude, your nose is bleeding. Did you--are we done? Or did we just start? Fuck, this is confusing."

Chloe, still inside the truck's cabin, had scooched over to push open the passenger's side door. She leaned expectantly towards Max, eyes full of hope and worry. For her part, Max stood still, wavering back and forth, feeling suddenly weak in the knees. She gratefully accepted Chloe's outstretched hand while climbing back into the vehicle.

"We're good," she explained while settling into the seat. "At least, I'm pretty sure." Max took a moment to wipe down her nose with the tissue Chloe handed. Her expression of worry remained.

"You look like _hell_ Max. Sure you're okay?"

"Yeah Chloe. I just, I need a moment."

Chloe nodded uncertainly, but otherwise seemed to accept Max's assertion. She twisted the ignition and pulled out into traffic, this time going easy on the acceleration.

"So... what, did you have to go Neo on their asses or something?"

"As if. I just kept walking, and rewound whenever anyone stopped me. I'm pretty sure it would've made the most boring action scene ever." Max paused to rub her forehead, and take another breath. Her head still hurt like hell. "I did have to steal a few key cards."

Chloe bobbed her head while remaining focused on the road, driving with seemingly aimless direction through the streets of downtown. The ordeal had been almost more than Max could take. So many surprised, shocked, and bewildered employees. Security guards yelling at her to stop--their loud, harsh voices still echoing in her head. But nevertheless Max found her way to what she _hoped_ was a lead.

"Listen, Chloe. The staff wasn't lying to you: I got access to one of their computers and snooped around using their record keeping software. There's no record of anyone renting Rachel's room number on the date from that postcard."

Chloe's expression became crestfallen at hearing the words. "But that's _bullshit_ Max--"

"Let me finish," Max interrupted. Chloe snapped her mouth shut in response, giving Max a confused but hopeful glance. "That's what was in their _computer_ system. But places like this typically keep hard copies of records for at least a few years. And this," Max paused to wave the folder, "holds the _real_ records of rentals on that date."

Chloe's eyes widened, but let Max continue. "Unfortunately, Rachel's name doesn't show up. The files say some dude named Mark Jefferson rented the room."

"That's the guy!" Chloe yelled, nearly causing the car to swerve out of its lane. "I asked them _directly_ if either Rachel or this _Jefferson_ guy had rented a room there."

"Wait, you know this person?" Max wondered aloud.

"Just some weirdo Rachel met online. She never told me, but I scrounged it up from her journal. Apparently does photography shoots for wanna-be models. Has access to large magazines, contacts. But when I tried to look the dude up, it was as if he doesn't even exist. Figured the name must be an alias, or something."

"That _is_ weird," Max agreed. "And it's not the only thing that's strange. Because the room next door was rented by _Eric-freaking-Landhauser_."

"Land- _who_?" Chloe questioned as she pulled the truck around a corner, pulling them into a small parking lot.

"And _his_ rental was _also_ scrubbed from the computer system! That _can't_ be a coincidence."

"Max, back up. Who's this, and what's he got to do with Rachel?"

"Well, I don't know for sure. But Eric Landhauser is the name of the Seattle city head prosecutor. I got to school with his sons. It's weird enough that _he'd_ be renting the room next to Rachel's, and it's even _weirder_ that there's no electronic record of it."

"But, it could've just been a glitch?"

"I don't think so, Chloe. It was _only_ these two rooms that had their records modified. I double checked. Every other rental that day is accounted for. Chloe, someone went through some serious trouble to make sure no one knows."

"Alright, Max," Chloe ceded as she parked the truck. Turning to face Max directly, she continued, "tell me more about this Landhauser guy. Tell me everything."

So Max related what she knew. That Eric Landhauser had two sons, Jacob and Drew, both of which attended her school. That Calvin was friends with the man. None of those facts, however, were particularly helpful nor relevant to the hotel records. Wincing, Max kept the details about her relationship with the Landhauser sons secret, just giving Chloe the brief descriptions of who they were. That Drew was the game-winning quarterback on the school's football team. That Jacob was a talented photographer. A real family of "winners."

A well of anxiety surged, urging Max to tell Chloe everything, or at the very least, her woes at school--which had admittedly fallen from mind since Chloe's reintroduction to her life. It _would_ be good to tell someone who would care. Which was still a bit of an assumption. Chloe did seem eager to hang with Max. After all, she _did_ originally show up last night to apologize. But ultimately, Max knew that their current bond was forged on the context of Rachel Amber. When they found her, would Chloe disappear again? After all, she seemed perfectly content without Max in her life before. Especially with this Rachel person. For the first time, Max felt a jealous pang at Chloe's relationship to Rachel, immediately followed by a cloud of guilt.

Pushing the feeling aside, Max knew she needed to do whatever she could to help Chloe. Her friend's quest had become a driving focus for her life--a problem to wrap her head around that didn't involve her own woes. Max took a quick glance at the time and saw that it was almost noon. If she didn't want to spend the rest of the week "grounded," she would need to head back. If she wasn't already found out already.

"Chloe, I know this sucks, but I really do need to head back home."

"That's bullshit, Max. I mean, the cloak'n'dagger today was totally awesome, but we're not exactly any closer to finding Rachel."

"Then tomorrow may solve our problems, Chloe. There's a BBQ happening at the Landhauser's, and my family is invited. Half the SPD will probably be there. Not exactly my favorite thing, but it'll give me an excuse to be around the house, and do some more snooping. Maybe find another clue."

Brightening, Chloe nodded in agreement. "Girl with a plan. Love it. So when do we bust their shit up?"

A little taken aback at Chloe's self-invitation, Max blurted out the time. "Uh, it starts at around 6:30. Probably shouldn't show up until seven though."

"Just text me the address, and I'll be there."

"Chloe..."

"Don't _worry_ , Max. I'm not gonna embarrass you in front of your friends." Max blanched at the thought of Jacob Landhauser being a _friend_. Clueless, Chloe continued, "Just... let me inside, and I'll help dig around for clues. Come on, you gotta let me do _something_. Besides, what's the worst that can happen? You've got the power, sistah!"

"For now, Chloe. Remember, we don't know how much longer my abilities will last."

* * *

Hours later, Max paced in her room, thinking over the events of the day, and the day ahead of them. The heist at the hotel had been way too intense, but ultimately worth it. They had a clue--something to latch onto. Something... something to keep Chloe in Seattle. Max had to admit to herself, that more than actually _finding_ Rachel, she was simply glad that Chloe had a reason to stay.

What if she hadn't found anything? If the hotel hadn't relinquished any leads? Would Chloe had given up, and returned to Arcadia Bay? Max knew she couldn't stay in Seattle forever.

Chloe mentioned during their conversations that she was staying out of a dingy motel off interstate 5. It was cheap, but so was Chloe, and Max knew she wouldn't be able to rent a room there forever. Eighty dollars a night adds up quick. Once the mystery was solved, one way or another, Chloe _was_ going to have to leave town. This, more than anything, left a sharp pain in Max's stomach. She gripped her gut, and sat down on the bed, staring at the floor.

_I don't think I can go back to the way things were. Especially now that I've got this power. I need to work up the courage to talk about it with Chloe. I might be completely crazy, but I really feel like, if I just ask, she'll let me come back with her. I... I could enroll in high school in Arcadia Bay! I doubt Joyce would mind having me move in with them. It would be so good to see her again..._

Max flopped onto her back, dismissing the fantasy. This was the real world. Until she was eighteen, there would be no freedom. But Max couldn't help holding out hope. Chloe had already made several off hand remarks about them, in the future tense. That what was happening between them was more than just some temporary alliance. How did Chloe see this ending? Would they all take off together, once they found Rachel? What if they never did? Would Chloe dump Max, angry that she wasn't able to help, even with her power?

Max groaned, unable to settle her thoughts, and began flopping back and forth on the bed. Thinking over the events of the day, she remembered her flashback experience, when Chloe grabbed her arm.

 _First time_ that's _happened. What the hell_ was _that? Was it connected to my powers? Was I actually re-living that?_

Max felt a shudder run through her at the idea her powers might send her directly _back_ to a moment of hell. Even worse, that they might _keep_ her there. Stuck in some sort of perverse infinite loop.

_I can't think like that--I have to believe in what's happening. That I got these powers for a reason, and that Chloe and I are connected._

Lost in thought, Max curled her legs up into her chest, forming a small ball on her bed. She let out an uneasy sigh, and wished for the remaining hours of the day to fly by. Tomorrow she would be officially ungrounded--free to move about on her own will. Though she would need to do something about the phone. Miraculously Vanessa had not noticed its absence, but the device would need to be where Vanessa originally hid it before her sentence was up.

 _And then there's school tomorrow. God, what hell do they have planned? And should I even use my rewind? It would be_ so satisfying _to be one step ahead of those assholes at every turn. Wipe that aloof expression right off Victoria's stupid face. I guess a little wouldn't hurt. As long as I have enough energy to help Chloe at the BBQ._

Max let her imagination continue to wonder, but she eventually grew dreary-eyed, the day's excitement getting the better of her. As she drifted off, the vision of Chloe's face, and the sound her voice, permeated Max's thoughts.


	5. Ruffled Feathers

A small cascade of crumbs tumbled from Max's face as she took another bite of her cold turkey sandwich, a satisfying yet efficient meal she was able to assemble before leaving the house this morning. Fortunately, Calvin had to get up early for work, so there was no harassment from him. But Vanessa watched Max like a hawk, a leery eye monitoring her entire morning routine.

With luck, and fortune, neither Calvin nor Vanessa learned of her antics on Sunday, and her status as "grounded" was officially lifted. She was a free woman once more. Not that her mother or Calvin could hold her in place. Not any more. Nevertheless, she was still having a hard time getting her head around just exactly what her power _meant_.

 _I could seriously take over the world. I'm sure Chloe would approve. But I don't want to hurt anyone, or do anything illegal. I'm not_ that _messed up. Not yet. So... I need to figure out how to bring some_ good _into this world. Though honestly, right now, I think I'd settle for a little bit of justice._

Her writing hand moved in small strokes while she thought, recording the events of the previous day and this morning. It was something she should've done this during her time alone yesterday afternoon, but there was too much excitement, too much adrenaline. She needed time to organize her thoughts. And all that rewinding was truly exhausting.

_I'm going to have to be more careful with my powers from here on out. Seriously--I thought I was going to faint! No more rewinding for frivolous pursuits!  
_

Max had used her power a few times this morning, mostly just to provide an opportunity to respond with a witty quip to her mother. Something to make Vanessa shut her mouth suddenly, and cross her arms while looking slightly embarrassed. It had taken numerous tries, but Max eventually emerged victorious. The cost, of course, was the nausea. And the headaches.

_Totally worth it, but from here on out, I've got to ration this power. For Chloe._

Max did her best to silence the ambient chatter surrounding her. Today she was forced to eat in the school's cafeteria (a first). Her usual haunt was an area now under construction, and Ms. Banks had to attend a faculty meeting at lunch time today. Her quiet, comfortable biology room wasn't an option. Normally, any sort of hidden-away corner would've sufficed, but Max wanted to be able to write easily, and that required a flat surface. So after some doubt-filled deliberation, Max decided to brave the cafeteria. Fortunately, she was early, and was able to snag a table all for herself.

As the room filled with students Max noticed peripherally how none asked to sit at the table, even though it would comfortably seat at least seven more bodies. No one so much as attempted eye contact. Fifteen minutes in, every table in the room was full to the brim. Except Max's. Her table was an island. Which, all things considered, was absolutely fine.

_Like this stigmatization means anything to me, anymore. They think they're being so clever and cool, but really they're just giving me what I want. I've got mad powers in good company. What more could I ask for?_

But she wasn't absolutely sure about that last bit of the thought. Chloe hadn't texted her yesterday, or at all this morning. The silence was deafening, and Max was becoming nervous.

_Did I do something wrong? Does she think I'm just being crazy, with this whole Landhauser thing? Or that I made it all up, just to keep her here in Seattle? God, it's possible..._

As far as Max knew they were still "on" for their planned rummaging of the Landhauser household this evening. At least, Chloe hadn't said anything otherwise. But Max couldn't help but feel a little nervous. The uneasy doubts filled her mind easily, generating a sense of dark foreboding.

_Should I text her? I don't want to seem too needy. Or would that just be normal? God, I don't even know anymore..._

Max bit her lip, trying not to descend into another bout of self pity. But it was difficult: she was never the most social person to begin with. And with what Calvin had done... there was no perspective left. No grounding on which to base what was "normal" communication between friends. Max had completely clammed up, shutting out the outside world. Though exciting and awesome, Chloe's presence in her life was also just as confusing and nerve wracking. More than all else, Max didn't want to screw it up, and come off as too needy. Chloe was so cool, so effortless in her general demeanor. Like she could do no wrong.

Max sighed, and twirled the pencil in her hand before starting her next paragraph in the journal. Which disappeared with a swift "swoosh," as Victoria snagged it while pretending to stroll past Max's table. Victoria, dressed in an begrudgingly fashionable dress-suit outfit, continued walking with her confident poise, while thumbing through pages of the stolen journal. Max remained stunned, staring at the empty space on the table where the journal had been seconds ago, her pen hand held frozen in place. But, in anger, she gripped too tightly with the other hand, and her lunch fell apart, the sandwich spewing itself apart in all different directions.

Victoria loudly, and pointedly, cleared her throat. As if on cue, most conversation throughout the cafeteria died down to a dull murmur. She took a moment to hold Max's journal high above her head, and then lowered it back down to eye level.

"So today, my fellow students, I give you a most _special_ introspection into the secret life of our _best friend_ Maxine Caulfield. A round of applause for the young lady, please."

Shockingly, people clapped. Max cursed as she felt the rush of blood creep into her face.

 _I could just rewind... hide my journal before she grabs it. But... I_ just _promised myself I'd stop with that. Only for important stuff. If I'm too tired to use my powers at the BBQ, what will Chloe do? It's only hours away! I can't waste them now. And besides, who cares what these assholes think?_

Victoria flipped through some pages at random, and then cleared her throat again. "Let's see here, ah. Here we go. _Yesterday he came into my room again_ \--Wow, I always knew it Caulfield. You go girl!" The cafeteria broke into hushed snickers. Victoria waved them down before continuing her dictation. " _He was so pissed, and drunk. Something at work? It was just like last time. Hands everywhere. And when I tried to get away, it was even worse. These bruises will probably last a few days. I can't... this is too much..."_ Victoria came to a stop, her words becoming more confused as she read.

After a short silence, she snickered. "Uh, _wow_ Max. I didn't know you were into that sort of shit. Kinda makes sense though. It's always the petite ones that like it rough. Nice fantasy journal you got here though."

The lunchroom _erupted_ into laughter. Max felt the blood pounding in her ears, too angry and embarrassed to think.

Victoria flipped through a few more pages before starting on a new entry. "Oh, here we go. _It's so weird with Chloe back in my life. Granted, everything is hinged on this Rachel thing, but being with her again is so nostalgic. But she's given me purpose. I want to fight for her."_

"Yeesh, Max," Victoria said flippantly, as she chucked the journal back onto Max's lunch table. It landed in front of her with a harsh _thud_ , and for the first time in her life, Max cursed its existence.

"A sub  _and_ a carpet muncher. This has been most enlightening." After another round of laughter, she continued, "It's _okay_ Max," Victoria turned around to say. "I _totally_ get it. You know, I could hook you up with..."

Max didn't let Victoria finish her sentence. As if on instinct, she held out her hand, and rewound the previous few horrible seconds, intending to erase them from reality forever. But moments in she hit a brick wall. Gasping, she stuttered out of the rewind.

"-- _like last time. Hands everywhere. And when I tried--"_

Refusing to give up, Max tried again. And again. But each time it was the same: there was no going back past that point. Her rewind was failing. Crestfallen, and heartbroken, Max let the scene play out. Victoria making teasing remarks. Throwing the journal back onto the table. Giving Max her fake condolences. Hurt, confused, and embarrassed beyond belief, Max scrambled her belongings together and bee-lined for the exit. She couldn't take a second more of this. She felt the burn of the entire room laughing on her back as she sped down the hallway, suppressing sobs.

* * *

Moments later, Max hid under a stairwell, heart beating like a jackhammer.

 _That... that_ bitch _._ _How... she..._

Max held back a tear as she hugged her journal to her breast, while seated on the floor with her legs up, head pressed down onto them. It was all just _too much_ , too unfair. And no one seemed to give a shit. Sure, the administration threw out a token effort here and there. But no attempt to stop the problem at its root. Because the name of that root was _Landhauser_ , and that was a powerful name. The school knew where it stood.

 _Great. Now the class body thinks I'm into kink. That's so fucked! I hate..._ hate _... what he does to me. And... oh god. What if_ he _hears about this? What will he do? And why did my power fail? It's never_  done _that. It was--I felt so helpless..._

Max jumped as the bell rang. She had a scant five minutes to make her way to her next class. Wiping her eyes again, she rose to her feet and trudged her way down the halls. Fortunately, she got only a few stares and snickers on her way to her destination. Math class. Pre-calculous, to be precise. Not exactly Max's favorite subject.

Seating herself, Max took a deep breath and stared at the surface of her desk while the remainder of the students filed their way into the room. Fortunately, this was one class she did _not_ share with Victoria or her minions. With any luck, no one would bring up what just happened in the cafeteria. When the bell rang again, her instructor began his lecture, leaving Max to meander into her thoughts. Until her phone buzzed.

> **Chloe:**  
>  you, me. after school. let's chill, girl

It took a strength of effort to keep from gasping in relief, in a wave of euphoric happiness. Chloe was still there. Covertly, she thumbed a response underneath her desk.

> **Max:  
>  ** Yes! Meet me outside the gym.

Seconds later, Chloe replied:

> **Chloe:**  
>  didn't know you liked to pump iron
> 
> **Max:**  
>  Don't be ridiculous. It's just a good spot to wait.
> 
> **Chloe:  
>  ** thank god. stay scrawny, Caulfield.
> 
> **Max:  
>  ** Dork

Max put away her phone, bemused and befuddled by the conversation.

_Why the hell does she care about how I look?_

As class dragged on, quiet snickers and stares filled the room, pressing into Max. Though she was used to this, the events from lunch time exacerbated the normally minute effects of the hushed remarks whispered throughout the classroom. She couldn't help but notice various students taking a quick peek at their phone screen, then at her, and then back at the screen. And then chuckling.

_What now? Has Victoria finally leveled up, and upgraded to cyber-bullying?_

As if to answer her question, a concerned look from the girl sitting next to her, _Kate_ , Max remembered, stole her attention.

"Max, have you seen this picture that's been going around?"

Kate leaned her phone towards Max desk so she could see the image clearly. It was of Max's face, only overlaid with ball-gag, and the text "A normal Tuesday night for Maxine Caulfield." Max recoiled, an expression of disgust forming over her face. Kate gave a caring nod, and closed the image.

"Max, don't let those bullies get to you. I think it's ridiculous what they're getting away with."

The concern was palpable in her voice. Max couldn't believe her ears.

_Some one actually cares? How... what? Is this real? Who is this girl, anyway?  
_

Max knew little about her classmate. This was actually the first time, she could recollect, that they had actually talked. She seemed soft spoken, and went about her business with a quiet, unassuming demeanor. Which made the intensity of her words surprising--Max could feel the raw emotion.

"Th-thanks, Kate," Max answered.

Nodding, Kate continued, "You have to stay strong. They're just afraid of the truth."

Max shot Kate a worried glance.

_How much does she know?_

Max quieted the thought immediately. There's _no way_ Kate could know about her home life. It was actually a small relief that Victoria had misunderstood her journal entry. Sure, now everybody thinks she's some sort of weirdo, but they thought that before. However humiliating it might have been, little difference was ultimately made by the incident. Though if Calvin learns of it... was Drew or Jacob in the room? Max couldn't remember. If they talked to their dad, and he talked to Calvin... Max's stomach churned with worry. Calvin had made it _very_ clear that Max was supposed to keep her silence.

_Wait, what the hell. That doesn't even matter anymore. With my powers, who gives a shit what Calvin knows or doesn't know? What can he to me anymore?  
_

But her powers didn't prove too useful today. Which was incredibly troubling. Granted, she had overused them this morning. But what if they had failed her during the hotel heist? Or what if they disappear during this evening's planned incursion of the Landhauser household? Max slinked into her seat, weary and unsure of herself. She began to chew on a nail, an odd habit she'd picked up of late.

Kate's worried expression lingered for a moment longer before returning her attention to the lecture. Fortunately for both of them, the math teacher was a rather oblivious older gentleman who was approaching his retirement. He seemed inclined to let most side conversations slide. That, or he just didn't notice. Either was fine with Max. She glanced at the time.

_Another forty minutes of this. And then freedom. And Chloe._

* * *

Some forty-odd minutes later, Max sat outside, situated on a concrete riser. To her left a short set of steps carved their way into the wall, creating a terraced slope up to the gymnasium. The campus was mercifully empty. Most students had already found their respective modes of transportation, and the air was quiet, with only a few kids passing by every few moments or so. Despite the otherwise horrible events at lunch, Max felt giddy sense of anticipation for this afternoon. The plan so far was to hang out a bit, and then have Chloe run Max back home a little before the BBQ was supposed to start.

Chloe couldn't arrive soon enough. Max hated being around the school after class had let out. The only kids that straggled behind tended to be the ones with whom you didn't want to cross paths. Just as her luck would have it, two bodies seated themselves next to her, causing a border-line panicked reaction. On her right was Drew, the left, Victoria. Both presented Max a satisfied smirk. Pleasantly, Victoria placed a hand on Max's shoulder.

"Don't worry about today Maxine. Coming out is hard for all of us, but once that baid-aid is ripped, you're free! No more hiding!"

"You're the one that's got bandages, Victoria."

_Ooooh, good one, Max._

Drew scoffed in response. "Ye-ow. Love that fire you got there, little girl." His expression took a sudden, hard turn, giving Max a menacing frown. "But you aren't fooling anyone, twerp. I'm not gonna let you harass me and my own."

 _The hell is he talking about?_ You're _the one harrassing_ me! _  
_

"My dad says you'll be at our shin-dig tonight. You're going to put on a smile, and be a good guest. Right? Trust me, you don't what to know what happens if you don't."

Max felt a simmer of anger at his words, and before she could stop herself, fired back "And _you_ don't know what happens if you don't give me some space. _"_

"No one believes your bullshit," Victoria cut in. "You're just a sad little brat with some sort of EL James fetish. It's pathetic."

The urge to rewind rose to a boil. But Max held her hand, and seethed in silence while Drew and Victoria snickered. Max was never the best at thinking on her feet. Quirky retorts always came to mind hours, or even days, after the fact.

_I just can't right now. Let them have their stupid fun. We'll see what's really going on tonight._

"So you gonna introduce me or what?"

The sound of Chloe's voice snapped Max back to attention. Drew and Victoria remained loomed over Max's small frame, and Chloe stood before them, neck craning forward with her arms at her hips. Within moments, though, her smile faded, replaced with a small frown formed. Taking the opportunity of the distraction, Max leapt up and gave Chloe a chaste hug, while muttering, "not friends, Chloe. Let's just get out of here, okay?"

"Uh, sure, Max. You got it."

Victoria, however, wasn't willing to let the situation go at that. "Ah, so this must be the girlfriend. Gotta say, Caulfield. She suits you." In response, Chloe furrowed her eyes at Victoria, giving her a stern glare.

"And who the hell are you?" she quipped back.

"None of your concern," Drew stated as he rose to his feet. He had a foot, easily, on all of them in height.

"Then don't make it my concern, asshole," Chloe barked, giving him a challenging look.

"Whooa, hold up there princess," Victoria chided. "Don't you know who this is? This guy's a _Landhauser_. Show some goddamn respect."

Chloe's eyes widened, and she gave Drew another serious look, before glancing at Max for confirmation. Max sullenly nodded, while making feeble attempts to push Chloe away from the situation. Chloe, on the other hand, seemed eager to stand her ground.

"Landhauser? You must be one of Eric's little bastards?" Drew opened his mouth to respond, but Chloe didn't let him. Her voice rose to a shout. "What do you know about Rachel? Tell me what you know, you son-of-a-bitch!" Chloe started flailing a bit towards Drew, seemingly unconcerned of the height and strength difference between them. Max stood like a bulwark between the two, unwilling to let her friend get within arms reach of her chosen opponent.

Drew, for his part, looked honestly confused. "Who the fuck is Rachel," was his only response, looking to Victoria for help. Victoria shrugged, looking just as clueless.

" _Chloe_ ," Max emphasized. By this point she was practically driving her whole body into Chloe's, trying to coerce them both away from the situation. Chloe was forced to take a few steps back, but keep her eyes locked between Drew and Victoria.

 _Should I just rewind? I can avoid this whole confrontation entirely. Of course she had to go and mention Rachel's name... but I doubt Drew would know anything, and I can't really see the harm in it. And I absolutely_ have _to save my powers for tonight. I guess I'll let this one be._

Max grabbed Chloe's hand, tugging them in the direction she suspected Chloe had come from, leaving the pair of bewildered antagonists behind them.

* * *

"You didn't tell me kids at school were giving you shit, Max."

"I know Chloe... I'm sorry. I was going to bring it up, I swear. I just... we've been so focused on other things. And it's just not that big of a deal."

Chloe didn't seem convinced, shooting Max a worried look as they approached her truck. Which was of course illegally parked across no fewer than three spaces in the school's parking lot. With an exasperated sigh, Max pulled herself into the cabin, opting to stare at the floor rather than explain anything more to Chloe. Chloe slid into her seat on the driver's side, shutting her door and turning to face Max directly.

"Bullshit. Max, you can't let pricks like that walk all over you. Especially not now! You've got _powers,_ girl!"

Max cringed inwardly. Should she tell Chloe about how their failure at lunchtime today? She didn't want to jinx their plans for tonight. Deciding that it must've been a one-time event--from overall exhaustion--Max kept quiet. No need to worry Chloe needlessly. Their proposed hangout time had already been soured enough by her classmates.

"Let's just go, Chloe? Right now I want to be anywhere but here."

Chloe paused with another worried look, but otherwise started the engine and shifted into gear. Slamming the gas, they roared onto the arterial, and down the street.

"Don't think you're off the hook here, Caulfield. What the hell was all that about? Why's Landhauser's urchin and his wanna-be girlfriend harassing you?"

Max sank further into her seat, staring out the window. "It's a long story Chloe..."

"And we've got a few hours. So spit it out."

"Look, a while back Jacob Landhauser, the younger brother--my year--asked me out." Chloe's eyebrows shot up. "Not really looking for that right now, so I turned him down. Then things started to get weird."

_Did Chloe actually look a little relieved when I said I turned him down? Probably just my runaway imagination..._

"The guy has a small army of worshipers, and they decided to make my life a living hell for the perceived slight. Every day, it's been something or another. But really, Chloe, it doesn't matter. They're just assholes."

"Assholes that you can lay low with your mad powers, Max. Never forget that."

Max furrowed, staring at her lap. She still couldn't bring herself to talk about what happened at lunch. Discussing the details would would bring up... other things... definitely stuff she wasn't ready to talk about. Maybe after they found Rachel. Sighing, Max replied "I can't do everything Chloe. And I want to save my powers to help find Rachel."

Reminded of the topic at hand, Chloe gave Max a silent nod as they drove off, leaving the school and its cruel worries behind.


	6. Clipped Wings

If Max was being honest with herself, then it was very fair to say that she never truly enjoyed attending these sorts of social functions. She got the distinct impression neither her mother nor Calvin particularly wanted her there either, but for whatever reason, they felt invested in making sure she attended. Something about keeping up appearances. On the car ride to Mercer Island, located in the middle of lake Washington and home to the city's rich and elite, Calvin gave Max several stern looks, no doubt an attempt to intimidate her. Months ago, it would've worked. But Max could feel the change within her. As Chloe had said while they hung out this afternoon, "you're like a force of nature." Max glowed at the memory. With Chloe, anything felt possible.

But Chloe wasn't here now. Max wanted some one on one time with a few of the guests, notably Eric himself, and the chance to dig for some details. Anything that would give them a direction that would point to Rachel Amber. She knew Chloe was out there, somewhere, probably pouting in her truck, waiting for Max to give the all clear. Keeping her waiting was unsettling, but she knew it might be worth it. Once the party attendees were scrubbed of information, it'd be time to call in her blue-haired cavalry and get their detective on.

The BBQ, thus far, was a congenial affair. The attendees seemed to be mostly from the Seattle Police Department, as well as several staffers and colleagues from Eric's office. It was a little disconcerting how chummy they all were with each other.

_I don't know much about law, but should the city prosecutor have such familial relationships with the police department? Potential for conflict of interest much?_

Max and her family arrived respectably late, half an hour past the advertised start time. There were at least thirty people here already, all milling about and shaking hands, slapping each other's backs. A few kids darted to and fro beneath the legs of the adults, periodically letting out a shriek as someone won the latest round of "tag." Calvin made their first order of business to introduce his relations to the host. After taking a few minutes to even find him, they finally got the opportunity for conversation.

"Calvin, my boy, welcome, welcome."

Max was a little taken aback by Eric Landhauser, in the flesh. He was one of those forty to fifty year old career men that was aged, but exactly how much was difficult to tell. A slightly balding head with a few grey hairs, sporting a pronounced chin and piercing eyes, she had to hold back a small scoff at his "kiss the cook" apron. It was odd--Max felt an immediate gravity towards the man, a predisposition to like him. He had an eloquent manner of speech, addressing Calvin with a warm smile, and a deep but not gruff voice. Then Max remembered that this man was best friends with Calvin, and her attitude towards him soured.

"... and this must be your sister," Eric surmised, giving Vanessa an appreciative look, and extending a hand for a shake. She eagerly took it, giving a small blush, and worded some forgetful nicety.

_Gee, mom. Try not to trip over yourself._

"And _this_ ," he emphasized, "must be your niece." A small silence hung in the air after his statement. No hand was offered. Max simply nodded, disquieted by Eric's sudden change in tone.

 _How much has Calvin said to this man? He's mentioned that they're from the same neighborhood. That despite their age difference, they hung out a lot. Some sort of "best friends for life" kinda thing_.

"Charmed," he said after Max didn't respond. He immediately regained his early non-nonchalance, all charisma and friendliness restored. "Maxine, right? Or, I believe you preferred to be called Max."

"Max, yes. Please," Max found herself replying, as if on autopilot. She was beginning to understand how this man had reached his position in life. It wasn't just high education, it was his general _swagger_. Being in his presence begat a desire to earn his appeal.

_This is man somehow connected to Rachel's disappearance. Stay focused, Max._

Eric finally extended a hand, which Max took hesitantly. He gave a strong grip, and pulled her in slightly, whispering into her ear.

" _We need to have a talk, Max Caulfield. But not now."_

As if nothing had transpired, he released Max's hand and turned to face a new set of guests walking in from around the back side of the house, or to better call it, small mansion. Eric Landhauser's home was at least three stories tall, and presumably sported a full basement as well. It would be a lot to rummage through. However, Max remained confident that their incursion would go unnoticed. Eric's family was in the backyard mingling, and the home owner himself was too busy with guests to pay attention to what was going on inside his house. But his lingering whisper Max made uneasy.

_That was... weird. Why would he say that? What has Calvin told him about me? I guess this is a good thing though. Won't need to fight for an audience._

Now that their small party had given their respects to the host, it was time to spread out and mingle with the other guests. This was the part Max always dreaded. That feeling of being slightly out of place, like a fish out of water. Everybody around her seemed to have no trouble at all finding a conversation to segue themselves into. Without even realizing it she raised a hand to her arm, and then to her face--a nervous tick she'd sworn to shake off.

Calvin and Vanessa wasted no time in ditching Max. Calvin immediately located a group of buddies from the department, one of whom handed him an opened beer, giving him a respectful clap on the back as he joined his peers. Vanessa approached a group of what appeared to be house wives, introducing herself, and finding immediate inclusion into their group. Which left Max standing alone, in the midst of laughter, clinks of glasses, and general amusement.

 _Keep it together, girl! This is nothing. Remember that you have more power than_ anyone _here._ _There's no reason_ not _to be bold!_

A small child slammed himself into Max's legs, causing her to very nearly topple over. The kid braced himself on her legs, looking up at who he had bumped into. He was a freckled boy, with wavy golden hair. Upon making eye contact, he gave Max delightful smile. Something about his look gave Max hope, like there really was still good in the world. Still something worth fighting for.

"You okay there, little man?" Max asked, giving him a slightly bemused expression. He still had arms braced around her ankles, trying to steady himself.

"I--Hi! My name's Sam? What's your name?"

Max knelt down, releasing herself from his childish clutches. She presented him a hand to shake, which he took without hesitation. "My name's Max. It's nice to meet you, Sam."

Sam wrinkled his nose, giving it a solid rub with his free hand. In the meantime he made exaggerated shaking motions with the other. "Heeeeey," he ventured, "do you go to school with my brothers?"

 _Holy shit. There's a_ third _Landhauser? I guess... yeah, the resemblance is striking._

"If your last name is Landhauser, and this is your house, then yes, Drew and Jacob go to the same school as me."

Sam withdrew his hand to cover a sneeze, then wiped his nose again. "Drew says you're a bad person."

Max was taken aback by the sudden, brazen accusation upon her character. Then again, it was a pleasant surprise, to receive such forthright honesty.

_Leave it to a child to speak their mind..._

"Well, Sam," Max answered, "I don't know why he would say that. I really do just try to mind my own business."

"He says you lie about stuff."

Sam's response threw Max for a loop.

_I lie about stuff? What... okay. Obviously this kid overheard his brother talking shit about me. But what does this mean? Why does Drew think that I "lie" about "stuff?"_

Nevertheless, Max knew she needed to give some sort of reply. "Maybe we just don't understand each other. Being a teenager is really complicated."

This answer seemed to satisfy Sam, who nodded eagerly. He took a step back, and gave Max a full look over. "You don't seem so bad to me. I'm gonna tell Drew he's full of poop!" And with that, he ran off, as the other kids had finally identified his position. They chased after him, screaming and hollering in his wake.

Max rose back to her feet, her spirits lifted. Their interaction, though short, gave her a sudden surge of confidence. One she knew that she needed to ride. But where to? It was time to be that person Chloe _thought_ she should be. Someone who could take charge, worm their way into a conversation. Get the answers they wanted.

As if by divine providence, she saw Eric Landhauser, standing alone over the grill. He wore a comfortable smile as he flipped a set of burgers, sizzling away, their excess fat dripping to the collector below. Max arched her back, and marched straight towards the man, looking directly at his face as she did so. Within seconds, he lifted his gaze to meet hers--a small victory.

"Max. I see you met my son. He's a good boy, so smart and intelligent. We expect great things of him."

"I have no doubt," Max replied. "He seems like someone who's capable of making up his own mind about things."

Eric's face creased, as if slightly off put by Max's statement. "Max. I think it's time we had a talk."

_This ought to be good._

Max approached the man, closing the distance between them to scant inches. They were so close she could feel his breath on her face. Unsurprisingly, it smelled of alcohol. With a lowered volume, Eric's voice grew suddenly serious. "Calvin's told me of the accusations you've made. This isn't a _game_ you're playing, child. Rather, this is _quite serious_. Now. I _know_ Calvin. Spent the better part of my life with him. I trust him more than I trust my own staffers. I need you to tell me, right here. Right now. That you understand any further provocations on this matter will be met with an... _extreme_ response. The sort of accusations Calvin says you made are career-killing. Calvin has spent his _whole life_ in the service. I won't have some little _run_ _t_ of a girl do away with that! What manner of odd fetishes you have do not concern me, unless they interfere with _me and my own_. Do I make myself absolutely clear?"

Eric's accusation threw Max, and for a solid five seconds she was unable to utter a response. So much revealed, under so short a time. Her mother had _told_ Calvin? That simple betrayal hurt more than anything. Vanessa had promised she wouldn't. But, that's what you get for trusting a drunk. Always eager to spout some _insider_ knowledge for a leg up. And it was to her own sibling, after all. If anything, it was Max's fault for being so short sighted.

Max recollected the previous few days, and tried to draw them into context. Normally, Eric's pressing question, a demand of silence, would have been the end of it. Max would've acknowledged, and been upset, but otherwise complied. But she heard Chloe's voice ringing in her mind's ear. _I am a force of nature_. So she decided to _act_ like one.

Instead of answering his question, she decided to ask one for herself. And Chloe. "Where is Rachel Amber?"

The question _stunned_ Eric Landhauser. He took a step back, nearly tripping over the grill he stood in front of. His face paled, as if Max was a ghost standing before him. He opened his jaw, then closed it, then opened it again. Moments later a terrifying expression formed on his face, one of absolute determination. Of someone not willing to acquiesce, under any circumstance. Within an instant Eric regained his former confidence, stepping forward to fill the void between them. When he spoke, his voice contained none of the calm or sway it presented before. Intensity and malice rode in its wake.

"How the _hell_ do you know that name, you little punk?"

Eric's reaction, though slightly terrifying, filled Max with hope.

 _He_ does _know something. I knew it! The Landhausers and Rachel are connected, somehow. Chloe's going to go ape when she hears about this!_

Max decided to take the confident approach, and stay on offense.

"You're going to tell me everything you know about Rachel Amber, right here, right now. Otherwise I take my shirt off, and show everyone here what Calvin's done to me."

Eric paled again, taking a step back, suddenly unsure of himself. To be fair, Max was in a similar spot. She had no intentions of taking her shirt off in front of all these people. She just wanted to see what the threat might do. And its result was satisfying.

"Listen, little lady. This is fire you're playing with. And I can see to it that you, personally, get burned. Do you know what happens to women that make false accusations, like yours? This isn't a game. This is someone's _whole life_ you're playing with. And I won't let some insolent little brat destroy it!"

The venom in Eric's words forced Max to take an involuntary step backward. Apparently she'd hit a nerve. But Eric definitely knew _something_ about Rachel Amber. Was it worth it to press onward? Max already knew she would need to rewind this conversation. There's no way she would feel safe at this point, given Eric's implicit threat. But his words gave her hope that there would be a clue in the house. There had _got_ to be something hidden, somewhere, that would nudge them a step closer to the truth. Max decided to active her rewind, and erase her conversation with Eric Landhauser. Upon exiting, no one seemed to notice her change in position. Everyone carried on as normal.

_The advantages of being a wallfower..._

* * *

Max tried hitting up a few other guests for information. A few police officers, one of Eric's colleagues from the office. No one gave any sort of telling reaction. Whatever Eric knew, he had kept it confidential. She even considered approaching Drew and Jacob, both of whom were hanging out at the back of the party, leaning against the wooden fence that separated their yard from the neighbor's. But only briefly. It was unlikely they knew anything. Which meant it was time to move to phase B of the plan.

 _Or "phase C", as I like to call it_.

Max slipped inside the house, rewinding afterwards to ensure her ingress went undetected. After she was certain the house was empty, and that no one came calling after her, she texted her accomplice. Chloe appeared at the front door in less than a minute.

"Geez, girl," Max remarked. "Were you hiding in the bushes or something?"

Chloe shut the door behind her, and gave Max a devilish grin, and eager grip on either shoulder, pushing them both onwards into the house.

"Didn't exactly have any other plans this evening, Caulfield. So. Learn anything from your enhanced interrogation techniques," she asked, air quoting the last bit. Max snickered.

"Not really, expect that Eric definitely knows something. He looked like he saw a ghost when I mentioned Rachel's name."

Chloe bobbed her head as they explored the Landhauser home. They quickly made their way to the third floor, figuring that might be where the office or study was located. After a few false hits--what appeared to be the master bedroom, and then Drew and Jacob's rooms, they found a locked door.

"This has got to be it, Chloe. But... how do we get it open?"

"Any way? I mean, does it matter? Could go find an axe. I'm sure this fucker's got one in the garage."

Max returned a puzzled expression. "I don't exactly want to advertise what we're doing, Chloe."

"So just get in there and rewind, you goose."

The simplicity of it was stunning. How the hell hadn't she already thought of that? A large smile crept onto Max's face, and without thinking, gave Chloe a tight hug from behind.

"You're a genius, Chloe Price."

"Yeah, yeah, easy there girl," Chloe joked, turning around in place, and gave Max's head a scuffle. "Let's make some noise, alright?" They gave each other a stupid grin before Max ended the hug.

Finding a suitable implement of destruction took longer than expected. Surprisingly there was no axe to be found, nor any other sharp implement capable of damaging a door. Max was beginning to lose hope when Chloe tapped her shoulder. She was carrying a large sledgehammer, far too heavy for her to be able to carry easily. It would be a difficult three flights of stairs to climb with that thing in tow. But, it looked more than capable of putting a hole in the door, if they could get a solid swing in. Chloe seemed confident enough to try. Each girl holding one end, they slowly ascended their way back up to the house's top floor.

"Easy, easy! Chloe, you don't want to throw your back out!"

"Dude, chill. Even if I do, you can just rewind it, right?"

Chloe _was_ right, but the carefree attitude about her own well being was disconcerting. Yes, Max could presumably undo any damage done, but she would still have to see it. And remember it. She shuddered, and did her best to repress the memory of Chloe getting shot.

Chloe wasn't waiting for an answer. She backed up from the door, and with a solid heave of effort, she swung the hammer through the air with all her strength. Miraculously, the hit made a direct connection to the doorknob, sending the hardware through the door, clean onto the other side. It was accompanied by a large _cracking_ sound. Within moments, she heard the downstairs patio door slide open.

"Hello?" Eric called out from the first floor.

Max and Chloe gave each other a look, and Chloe wasted no time in pushing the rest of the door open. Max slipped through, into the study, and took a final glance at Chloe before activating her rewind. Chloe stood beside her, a satisfied yet pained smirk on her face, while clutching one shoulder with her a hand. Max watched as her friend became a blur, and marched events backwards. When she exited, she immediately heard a small gasp from the other side of the door.

"M-Max? Did it work?"

Max unlocked the door, and opened it with her best mock-showman presentation she could give, giving Chloe a small curtsy.

"Ha! That's _so fucking cool_ _!_ " she whispered excitedly, quickly entering the room and closing the door. She rewarded Max with a small squeeze on each shoulder, bumping their heads together.

"Okay Chloe. How about your check out the computer, and I'll poke around the filing cabinets."

"Let's hope Eric doesn't lock his computer like he locks his rooms."

Max hadn't considered that. Makes sense that a man like Eric, who dealt with confidential information on a daily basis, would practice basic computer security. But to both their relief, his computer was on and unlocked. Chloe immediately began pouring through his documents folder, looking at things by name, date or any other factor that could lead to information about Rachel's disappearance.

Meanwhile Max began to meander the room. Most walls had bookshelves built into them, and they were full of what appeared to be law books, dictionaries, thesauruses, and other educational readings. Behind the computer desk, which was situated in the middle of the room, a row of filing cabinets caught Max's eye. After rifling through two, which contained personal and family finances, she hit something work related. The drawer was full of filing folders organized by date. Many of them contained small plastic baggies, holding what looked like evidence. She quickly flipped to the date on which Rachel was supposedly at the Maddross hotel.

As luck had it, there was a file in that date range. Heart thumping, Max pulled it from the cabinet and swiveled around, finding Chloe still completely engrossed in Eric's computer. A myriad of different documents and windows were open while she hammered away at the keyboard, muttering incomprehensibly under her breath.

Max gave Chloe a slight attention-grabbing tap on the shoulder, then diligently presented the folder on the desk surface in front of them. Chloe tore her focus from the screen to see what Max had found. The folder contained printed sheets of of what appeared to be a conversation log. Each line of dialog was timestamped. Not every entry was complete, and often had "<garbled>" written in the middle of a sentence.

"What _is_ this, Max?"

"If I had to guess, it looks like a surveillance log. Look at how each quote is time stamped, and how there's parts missing. But here, look!" Max pointed at a line halfway down the page.

 

> JEFFERSON: Yes, I've got Ms. Amber sedated. She's fine, and ready for <garbled>. Consider this payment--I don't want to have to be involved in this part of the <garbled> again. Too hot.

Chloe's face contorted in anger, grabbing the paper and reading it start to finish. Max glanced over at the computer screen. Chloe had found several scanned receipts, all dated the same day as the transcript. The list included cleaning bills, dry wall repair, and other odds and ends. Max returned to the filing cabinet to hunt for more clues. After a little more rummaging, she found a small briefcase at the bottom of the drawer. On its side there was some masking tape, which had the words "JEFFERSON" written with a black sharpie pen. Max grabbed the box, which was surprisingly heavy, and set it down on the desk. Giving Chloe a look, she saw the label and gave Max's new find her attention. Max opened the box, and Chloe gasped. It was filled to the brink with neatly arrayed stacks of twenty dollar bills. Chloe reached out with a tentative hand, brushing one of the stacks with her finger tips.

"Holy shit, Max. This... there's got to be at least fifty thousand dollars in here!"

Max nodded dumbly, too stunned at their find to say anything in reply. Her mind raced with the possibilities. Why so much money? And why did this briefcase have Jefferson's name on it?

Chloe shut the case closed, leaving her hands on it as she looked up at Max. Her hand slid to the handle.

"Chloe..." Max found herself saying.

"Don't be a baby, Max. There's no way this money's legit. Fucker's probably trying to get it laundered, or something."

She did have a point. If this was legally obtained, it would be in a bank account. And if it was the result of a police investigation, it should be in an evidence room. There was no justifiable reason for this kind of cash, stapled with Jefferson's name, to exist in this room.

Max sighed, and decided to let Chloe have her way. Besides, now she could stay in Seattle for longer, right? She had mentioned this afternoon she was just about out of traveling money. So she gave Chloe a nod, and agreed. Chloe instantly reversed her attitude, pumping a fist in the air and exclaiming "Hella yes!" Chloe's childlike reaction reminded Max of a time, which felt like forever ago, where they played pirates on the beach.

 _I guess we get to be real pirates now._ Magic _pirates._

Satisfied that Chloe was happy, Max returned her attention to the folder she had found, flipping through more of its pages. The remainder of the documents were mostly all conversation logs. Apparently someone was listening in on Jefferson while he was doing the photo shoot. Max put a piece of the puzzle together.

"Chloe, I think I understand what was going on. Or at least, kind of. Remember that Eric Landhauser rented the room _next_ to Jeffersons'?"

Chloe swiveled in the desk chair to face Max, giving an appreciative nod.

"Well, I think whoever was in that room, was spying on Jefferson and Rachel. At least, it would explain these transcripts. But why all the secrecy? If Eric suspected Jefferson, why not go through proper channels?"

Chloe leaned back in the chair, mulling over Max's question. "Maybe they didn't have enough on him? Maybe this whole thing was completely off the books?"

Max nodded, and kept filing through the paperwork. Until she got to the back of the folder. The final few pages were photos, the first of which made Max gasp in surprise. It was taken of a man, somewhere in his thirties, lying on the floor with a gunshot wound. A small pile of blood had formed around him. Eyes wide, Max moved to the next photo. She drew her hand to her mouth.

"Oh god, Chloe..."

"What, Max? I just found something over here--" Chloe stopped mid sentence as she saw the photo. Max recognized the young woman it pictured from a photo Chloe had shown her earlier. It was Rachel Amber, and just like the man from the previous picture, she was sprawled on the floor, surrounded by blood.

For a moment it seemed like nothing happened. Max and Chloe remained silent, stuck, unable to process what they were seeing. Then, things resumed, and Chloe began to stutter, tears forming in her eyes.

"M-max, no, this can't be right. This... what the _fuck_ Max... Sh-she... she was--"

As Chloe's words broke down into sobs and cries, Max instinctively wrapped her arms around her, trying to provide whatever comfort she could.

* * *

Events became a bit of a blur after their shared revelation of Rachel Amber's fate. Chloe's cries grew louder and louder, and Max felt torn about what to do. Eventually someone might hear. What if they got found out? Would she have to rewind, and force Chloe to go through this again? Max felt her stomach turn in response to the idea.

_I've got to get us out of here, quickly. We... we can figure things out once we're safe._

Max grabbed the money, and the folder. Chloe had fallen to the floor, curled up into a ball. Her heartbreaking wails continued. Content that their presence in the study had been mostly covered up, Max turned her attention back to Chloe.

"C-Chloe, come on. We... we need to leave. Please, Chloe. Just please, let's go?"

Chloe lifted her head, and they shared a long look before moving again. Wiping her eyes, and taking a deep breath, she stumbled to her feet. A look of rage, anger, and malice formed on her face.

"I'll fucking kill him. I'll fucking _kill_ him, Max," Chloe seethed. 

"Kill _who,_ Chloe? We don't even know what actually happened!"

"Eric, who the fuck else? And we know enough Max. He has photos of Rachel _d-dead_ _,_ in his fucking _office_. If he didn't do it, why the cover up? Eric needs to go _down,_ Max."

"But not right now, Chloe! We are literally _surrounded_ by cops! I totally hear you--some serious justice needs serving. But we need to have a plan!"

Chloe began to pace in small circles, removing her beanie, and running a hand through her hair. Her voice took a more pleading tone when she spoke next.

"Max, he's right... he's right downstairs. You can, I dunno, use your powers!"

"And do _what_ , Chloe? Rewinding isn't going to help us here!"

Tears returned to Chloe's eyes, and Max gave her another hug, though Chloe's body stiffened at the contact. "I can't just do nothing, Max," she whispered.

"Chloe, I'm not asking you to do nothing. Let's go back to your motel room. Put our heads together, come up with a plan. Alright?"

"D-don't you need to be back at home, or something?"

Technically, she did. She could hand wave an excuse for bailing on the BBQ, but there would be repercussions later. But at this moment, nothing was more important than making sure Chloe was okay. Screw the consequences.

"Chloe. There's no way I'm leaving you alone right now. Got that?"

Chloe nodded, and let Max pull her towards the exit by hand.

* * *

Max silenced the fourth call from Mom while sitting on the dingy bed in Chloe's motel room. Musty stains littered the carpet, and dust mites clung to the upholstery. Several beer bottles and cigarette butts littered the available horizontal surface space. She wrinkled her nose, cringing at the how poorly kept the room was. About ten minutes ago Chloe had retreated to the bathroom and hadn't come out since. Max could hear a shower running. The only other sounds were the rhythm of semi trucks streaming down the nearby interstate 5.

Their getaway from the BBQ had gone as smoothly as could be expected, given the circumstances. Max winced as she remembered how they left the sledgehammer in the hallway on the third floor, just out side the office.

_That'll be a weird one for Eric to find._

But she did remember to lock the office on their way out, so Eric should technically have nothing to suspect. At least, for a little while. And only if they didn't forget anything. Between Chloe crumbling to pieces and Max trying to keep it together, it was reasonable to think they slipped up somewhere. Max grumbled to herself, falling onto her back, and putting a hand over her face. It had been a long, hard day, and it wasn't over yet. Chloe's mental state was a source of omnipresent concern. Her friend was teetering between breaking down in tears, and entering in to a fury of unbridled rage.

_What happens next? Mom is going to be livid that I just disappeared from the party, and Calvin furious, but who cares? Their bullshit doesn't really affect me anymore. I guess this is... it, though? Chloe doesn't have any reason to be in Seattle anymore. Once she pulls herself together, she's going to leave. And I'll be alone again..._

The thought pulled Max into a stupor, a cloud of uncertainty and doubt forming in her mind. Max knew it was silly. It had only been a few days, but having Chloe back felt so natural, so completing, that she couldn't imagine life any other way.

_I don't think I can go back to the way things were, even if I have my powers to protect me. And maybe these powers were never about finding Rachel? What if the only reason I got them... was to save Chloe? That means I need to stay by her side, right?_

Dripping wet, and wrapped in a towel, a sullen Chloe exited the bathroom, giving Max a dejected, tired look. Without any words, she fell onto the bed, just beside Max, breathing softly. Unsure of what to say, or how to act, Max rose to her feet.

"A... Yeah. A shower sounds good. I'll be out in a minute."

Chloe mumbled something in response, her face buried in the bed's comforter.

_She just needs time to process this. That's all..._

* * *

A minute later Max stood in front of the bathroom mirror, naked save for her underwear. She crossed her arms to hug herself, wondering what kind of person she was becoming. She barely even noticed the bruising any more, despite the fact that the welts and discolorations ran throughout most of her torso, arms, and and legs. There was a reason she had stuck to wearing long sleeved shirts, despite the current system of hot weather that had moved in.

_How am I going to tell Chloe about this now? I... I was going to do it once we found Rachel. But now? What right do I have to pile more drama onto her doorstep? Hasn't she suffered enough?  
_

Her thoughts were interrupted by Chloe's voice. "Max, look, I--"

Chloe had opened the bathroom door, after rapping on it once. In the span of a moment, Chloe's expression of sorrow and guilt was replaced with one of absolute horror. She took a step back, raising a hand to her mouth, and steadied herself with another on the wall.

And that, Max later realized, was the final straw. The pent up guilt, denial, rage, and pain--emotions that she had long held repressed--all boiled to the surface, crashing through her facade with the force of a tsunami. Max felt her face contort, her eyes forming tears, which streamed down her cheeks uncontrollably. With a gasp, Max sank to the tiled bathroom floor, clutching at herself, her small frame convulsing with unrelenting sobs.


	7. Shifting Currents

For a long, stretched, almost eternal moment, Chloe stood motionless, too shocked at the sight Max's physical trauma to move a single muscle. Wordlessly, she gaped, wanting more than anything to do _something_ , but appeared completely unsure about what that thing would be. Max remained curled into a small ball on the floor, wailing cries reverberating against the tiles and walls of the small bathroom. Her lips and chin stuttered as she drew gasping breaths, beginning to hyperventilate.

_This isn't the way sh-she was supposed to find out! N-now what will she think? It'll--it'll be Victoria all over again! That I'm some sort of freak. She'll hate me for keeping things from h-heeer... I h-have to fix this. I need to t-tell her, but on my own volition, in my o-own way._

Max stretched her right arm out, preparing to activate her power.

"Don't you _dare_ , Caulfield," Chloe interrupted. The words hit with such intensity, and earnestness, that Max acquiesced, and for the moment, let the timeline continue. It was, after all, only fair to let Chloe speak her mind. But no words came. In space of a second, Chloe closed the distance between them. She knelt beside her shivering friend and placed a light, tentative hand on her shoulder. Looking around, she grabbed a bath towel off the rack wrapped and wrapped it around Max, giving her some privacy. Sniffling, Max lipped the words "thank you," but still found herself unable to actually speak. Chloe gave her a measured look, as if carefully deciding something.

With a small gasp, Max stiffened with instinctual fear as Chloe ran an arm beneath her back, clutching her shoulder. Another arm found its way under her legs. With a small grunt, Chloe lifted her up, out of the bathroom, and began stumbling towards the bed. Max's heart and mind was racing at a million miles a minute, as Chloe slammed herself down into a seated position, towards the head of the mattress. But she didn't let go, instead coordinating Max into a cradled position on her lap, gripping her securely, but not tightly, with both arms.

_She's... she's not mad?_

The intensity of the revelation--that Chloe had chosen to stay, to be with her, brought another round of tears, which increased with furor and intensity as the minutes ticked by. For the first time since Calvin's atrocities had begun, Max truly let go, allowing unrelenting waves of sobs and tears flow freely, without embarrassment, fear, or remorse. Her father's death, the abuse, the bullying, it all suddenly became  _too much_ ; the emotional weight of it refusing to stay silent any longer. Through it all Chloe maintained her grip, burying Max's head under her chin.

An indiscernible amount of time passed passed before Chloe first spoke. But the glow of sunlight from the closed curtains had faded; it must be getting late. Vanessa would be throwing a tantrum at this point. Max couldn't bring herself to care.

"Max..." Chloe began. She paused for a moment, clearly uncertain of how to proceed. "Look, you don't have to say anything, if you don't want to. I'm here, alright? Not going anywhere. But... please... Who's... who's been doing this to you? Why haven't you told anyone? Why didn't you tell--" Chloe paused to gulp a waver in her voice "--me?"

Max reluctantly pulled her head out from under Chloe's chin, nestling into a more comfortable position, where she could make eye contact.

"I'm sorry, Chloe. It's--it's my fault. I should've--"

"Let me stop you right there, Max," Chloe countered. " _None_ of this is your fault, okay? You can't ever let yourself think that."

Max nodded, finding some small bit of comfort in Chloe's assertion. "I know I should've said something. I was going to... we were just so focused on Rachel. And... I was scared. Of how you might react."

"How I might... Max, what the hell did you think I would do?"

Max squirmed, uncomfortable at being pressed so directly about her hidden fears.

"Not believe me? Think that I'm... doing this to myself?"

Chloe gave Max a stunned expression. "Why the _fuck_ would I think _that_ , Max?"

Max broke eye contact, settling her gaze on Chloe's sleeve tattoo. "Mom did," she whispered.

"You're fucking with me. You told Vanessa, and she didn't _believe_ you?"

"She blamed _me_ , Chloe. She just... she wouldn't believe the truth."

"That's such _bullshit_." Another minute passed while neither girl spoke. Finally, Chloe continued, "Not to press the issue or anything, Max, but I swear I'll believe you."

Max remained silent a minute longer, summoning up the courage to speak the words aloud. "It started several months ago. Calvin got... weird. Well. He was weird before. Always giving me, I dunno, looks. But then his drinking got out of control, and... those looks became something more."

Chloe gasped, slightly tightening her grip around Max. "He didn't..."

"No... It. It never went past him getting a... a _feel_. But the worst was when I tried to stop him. God... Chloe..." Max couldn't help it. Repressed memories slowly wormed their way to the surface, forcing another few rounds of sobbing before she could continue. Chloe rubbed her back, murmuring words into her ear. Finally, Max mustered the energy to continue.

"When I stood up for myself, he would get _so angry._ He'd take a belt, and then... just..."

"It's okay, Max. I... I get the picture. You don't need to keep going."

Numbly, Max nodded, placing her head back under the shadow of Chloe's chin. It was nice, she realized, this intimacy. A sensation she thought had been forever taken from her. Max additionally became aware that she _should_ be squealing with embarrassment right now. After all, she was still in her underwear, albeit wrapped tightly under a towel. But no such feeling arose. Being this close, to someone she trusted so much, felt natural.

 _Is that strange? I mean, we've only been reunited for three days. We do have our history together, our whole childhoods, really, but does that... make this okay? I don't know. But I do feel this... this_ certainty. _That Chloe is someone I can trust. And my power, it's connected to her. We're... we're connected.  
_

"So... I hate to press, but... I assume you've told more than just your mom? Why isn't Calvin serving some hard-ass time right now?"

Max scoffed, while worming a hand free to rub out an itch that was forming in her eye. "He's a respected officer of the law, Chloe. And he has friends in high places. It'd be my word against his. And my own _mother_ doesn't even believe me."

Chloe tilted Max's head so she could make direct eye contact, then slowly spoke the words. "I believe you, Max."

In a way, Max had expected Chloe's reply, but upon hearing it, its gravity, sincerity, and meaning, punched through another emotional dam in Max's mind. She couldn't stop her lips from quivering, and she pressed tighter against her friend, letting another round of sobs consume her.

* * *

Max couldn't sleep. Chloe insisted they turn in for the night, not even thinking twice about the small size of the bed. Max had taken a moment to put a shirt on, but otherwise climbed under the covers without hesitation, eager to restore the warmth of her friend's presence. With a bold gesture, Chloe rearranged Max into a cuddling position, with Max's back pressed against Chloe's chest, and their legs curled into the others'.

It was warm, comfortable, and reassuring. But the events of the day still weighed heavy. There was so much to consider, to wonder about. What did the events of this evening mean for... whatever was happening, between them? Chloe hadn't said a word about leaving, or staying. More than anything, that fact kept Max's mind racing.

 _I can't go back to the way things were. Living with family that hates me. Going to school with classmates that have some sort of weird vendetta against me. Actually, I forgot all about that. What was it their little brother said, at the BBQ? That "I lie?" Think, Caulfield. Maybe that's the real reason they're bullying me? It seemed too far fetched that Jacob would seriously want to date_ me. _He probably expected me to say "yes," eyes all a glimmer with wonder at being asked out by the most popular kid in school. Then follow it up with a "haha, just kidding, like I would ever consider someone like_ you _..."_

Max sighed, rubbing her head into the pillow and trying to squelch the line of thought.

_Still. When Eric threatened me earlier today, it was as if knew about my accusation against Calvin that I told Mom. Is Calvin... just trying to stay one step ahead? For when I snap, and contact the police?_

"Go to _sleep,_ Caulfield," Max heard Chloe mutter behind her. "You're agonizing over something, I can tell."

_Shit, she's still awake._

"It's just... so much happened today, Chloe. My mind won't stop turning."

"I know. Believe me, Max, I know..."

_God, that's right. You're not the only one suffering here, Max. It's only been hours since Chloe learned about Rachel's fate. And then you dump your problems all over her._

"Chloe?" Max started, hesitantly. "Can you... can you talk about her? Even after all this investigation, you really haven't spoken much about Rachel."

Max's stomach began to grow knots when Chloe didn't answer her question.

Finally, she began, "She was everything to me, Max. After dad died, and you disappeared, and mom remarried, I didn't have anyone, or anything. I was just... drifting."

"Then you met Rachel."

"She changed my whole life. We did everything together. Even after I dropped out of school, she always made time for me. We were going to..." Chloe began to choke up, holding back sobs of her own.

Max realized it was her turn to offer comfort to a grieving friend. She squirmed around, turning to face Chloe, and embraced her in a tight hug. Chloe took a long, unsteady breath before continuing.

"I think... I think I had already accepted that she was gone, though. Even before coming up to Seattle. I just, I needed closure, Max. I needed to know."

"And we still don't know the full story. Why did Rachel die? Why was Eric spying on the their room?"

Chloe's eyes narrowed, her face growing hard. "Someone is going to _burn_ for this, Max," she said, her words soft, but laced with determination. "Eric. Calvin. Those little dipshits from your school. Hell, even your mom. We can't let them get away with this."

Max understood Chloe's need for vindication, to bring balance to the currently unsteady scales of justice. Too many wrongs had occurred in both their lives, and someone needed to settle the score. But she didn't _feel_ it. At this moment, Max realized, what she _wanted_ was to hop into Chloe's truck, and just drive. To leave all this, everything, behind her. Start a new life. With Chloe. She knew it was idle fantasy. Even if she was able to convince Chloe to abandon her crusade, they wouldn't get far. Calvin knew what Chloe's truck looked like. It was, after all, fairly distinctive. He could put out a state-wide APB, have them taken in. Maybe even had Chloe arrested for kidnapping. She was eighteen, after all. Max was still a minor.

"I know, Chloe," Max found herself replying. "I... we need to get justice for Rachel. But other than that? Honestly, Chloe, I just want to be free of it."

Chloe gave Max a long, questioning look. Like she was pondering a question over and over, but was incapable of bringing it to voice.

_Did I say something wrong?_

Finally, Chloe settled on a response. "So, I know it's a complete shit-hole of a town. And you'd have to put up with step-prick, but... I can talk to Joyce. Maybe... maybe you could move in with us? We could buy you a new wardrobe, and everything. I mean, we _are_ flush with cash. And you could transfer to Arcadia High. Joyce would love to have you around--"

" _Yes!_ " Max cried, with a bit more enthusiasm than she intended. Did Chloe really just invite her to come live with her? Max intensified her hug around Chloe, praying that this wasn't just some sort of lucid, wonderful dream.

"I... we'd need to figure it out," Max realized. "I don't think my Mom or Calvin are going to just let me skip town."

"What's there to figure out? Seriously, neither of them know that it's _me_ that you've been spending these past few days with, right?"

"Well, no..."

"So we ditch Sea-hell. Cruise back down to the Bay. David--my step-ass--is just a security guard, but he knows people in the force. Fucker normally hates my friends. He'll, hell throw a tantrum at the idea of having someone move in. But he'll get how serious this is. And you can request a restraining order on your Mom and Calvin. Maybe we could even have Joyce become your legal guardian! Fuck, I dunno, Max. But we gotta at least try, right?"

All Max could do was nod, not certain that she would be able to form words at just this moment. Chloe was talking about her dream--her escape. The start of a new life. She choked back another sob, burying her face into Chloe's chest. Chloe drew a faint smile, increasing her grip around her friend.

"I'd... love that, Chloe," Max was finally able to say. "But, where do we start? And we haven't even figured out a plan for bringing down Eric."

"Don't worry about that, Max. I've got an idea, just need to work out the details. Okay? You've done so much already, far more than anyone else. Ever since Rachel disappeared, I haven't had anyone to lean on. Having you back is..."

"Magic," Max finished. She could've sworn she saw a sparkle in Chloe's eyes at the word.

"... Yeah. Anyway, stop _worrying_ about everything, and get some sleep."

Chloe had a point. Max had carried a lot on her shoulders, especially these past few days. It would be great to just _not_ worry about things for a change. Let Chloe plan the next move. Max rolled back around, assuming her earlier position, with Chloe nestling herself around the contours of her body. Finally, the long day's hours took their toll, and Max drifted into a troubled, but hopeful slumber.

* * *

A morning ray of sunshine hit Max, causing her to quickly close the eye that had half opened. Shifting around in their small bed, she found Chloe sprawled onto her back, one arm lazed off the side.

 _Truly, a picture of poise and beauty_.

Chuckling at her thought, Max went about her morning routine, such that she was able. Stealing Chloe's tooth brush for a thorough oral cleansing was the first order of business. As she stared at her still half-woken reflection in the mirror, a small thud sounded from the room outside, followed by a curse. Max poked her head out of the bathroom to find Chloe on the floor, wrapping the blankets further around her while yawning. Max went back into the bathroom to spit out the paste.

"So, as ordered, this girl's been scheming no plans," Max announced, as Chloe rose from the floor with bleary eyes.

"Mmph, good, good," she mumbled, while walking past Max to the bathroom, pausing to give her a rub on the head.

Once Chloe had gotten ready, they sat down at the small table in the corner of the room to discuss their plans.

"I've got an idea, but it's still kinda half baked. Need more time. So, I was thinking, let's keep up appearances, for now. I can drop you off at school, and spend the rest of the day figuring my shit out. I'll pick you up afterwards, and we go from there. Sound good?"

Max was a _little_ taken aback by Chloe's plan. Go back to school? Why? But she didn't want to argue it, and Chloe seemed fairly set on her proposal. Besides, if she was leaving Seattle soon, it might be nice to say good bye to at least a few people. Like that Kate girl. So Max nodded, and their day was set.

With only a half hour left before first period started, they hopped into Chloe's truck. Max took in its now-familiar surroundings, the beaten and stained fabrics, the weird decorations. They all brought a sense of tranquility. Of... home. Chloe, however, did not immediately start the engine. Instead, she turned to ask, "Hey, so you're still into photography, right?"

"One of my few remaining passions, yeah. Though it kinda died last weekend when Jacob chucked my camera into the street."

Chloe turned to rummage around in some compartments behind the seat while she replied. "Asshole. But hey. Here, take this." Chloe turned back around, and held a Polaroid camera in her hands, much like the one Jacob had destroyed. Max's eyes widened.

"Chloe, isn't this... isn't this William's old camera?"

"Sure is. And... I want you to have it."

"Chloe... I..." Max was truly at a loss for words.

"Just _take_ it, nerd. Here, let's do a selfie, commemorate the occasion."

"To Max and Chloe," Max exclaimed, taking the camera and holding it in front of her. Chloe swung an arm around her shoulder, and hugged her head in close.

"Together forever!" Chloe added as the photo printed. Max felt a small blush creep to her cheeks. "What, too corny?" Chloe asked.

"Just drive, dork."

* * *

The day at school had been an excruciatingly long one. Every half hour Max had stolen a glance at her phone for communications from Chloe, and every time it was the same: no messages. No texts. Chloe wasn't responding, either.

_Keep it cool, girl. Everything's still fine. You heard her. She'll be here. Probably just stuck in traffic, and can't get to her phone.  
_

But ten minutes had already gone by, and Chloe was no where to be found. The other annoyance is that the two people she _didn't_ want to speak with were blowing up her phone. Ten missed calls from Mom. Five from Calvin. Max rolled her eyes.

_Like they care. Just a couple of control freaks, really..._

The day of classes was over, and Max was waiting at the same spot as last time. Since sitting down, she entered into a steady routine of checking her phone, locking it, putting it back in the back, only to take it out again, and repeat.

"There you are." Max's stomach turned at the sound of the voice. Calvin was towering over her. How had he gotten so close? Had she spaced that hard?

Her uncle was dressed in uniform, his squad car parked just down the street. Max cursed herself again for not noticing his approach. Then again, she could always fix that. But before using her powers, Max decided to wait and hear what he had to say.

Calvin, wearing a warm smile, and positing a cool and relaxed body posture, lowered himself down to eye level with Max, resting his hands on his knees.

"Found your little girlfriend."

Max's heart sank.

_No... no way. This can't be happening._

"Well, she found _us_ , to be exact. Put up quite the fight, too! Like a blue haired tiger, or something. Was pretty funny to watch." Calvin brought a hand to his chin, and gave Max a hard, cold stare.

"Was pretty stupid of you two to go digging around in Mr. Landhauser's house. Stealing that money? And that evidence? What the hell were you _thinking_ , Maxine?" When Max didn't reply, he sighed, shaking his head. "Rachel... what a shit show that was. I was _this close_ , too."

"Close to what?" Max asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"It's a long story. Very boring. This Jefferson character, god. Had him dead-to-rights for human trafficking so many times. But he just... kept slipping through my fingers. But man, I thought we finally had him. My boss in the department said my lead was flimsy. Eric disagreed. So we did a little... _off the books_ policing. Which, regrettably, ended with a double homicide. Guess my trigger finger got a little jumpy. It happens."

"Y-you k-killed Rachel?"

"And Jefferson, snaky motherfucker. The one good thing to come from all this, I guess. He'll never make a fool of me again. Fortunately, both deaths were easy to cover up. Jefferson had no connections, and Rachel no family in the area or official records of being here."

"W-why do you even _care_ , you bastard?" Max shouted, oblivious to all else. "You obviously don't give _two shits_ about helping people!" Her raised voice made Calvin give their surroundings a quick look. No one seemed to have overheard.

"This would be a conversation best concluded in private, I think."

"Think again, asshole." Max raised her hand, and reached for her power.

At the same moment, Calvin shoved a taser into her side and pressed the button, shouting "she's got a weapon!"

* * *

Events past that became a slurried, stop motion series of snapshots. A blurry memory spent in the back of a police car. Of kicking, fitfully, while being carried forcefully into her home. Her room's door slamming behind her, the lock sliding into place. Max didn't know how many hours slid by, but by the time she regained her faculties, it was dark. She was on her bed, still groaning from the lingering pain of the taser gun.

_God... how... Chloe!_

Max forced herself up, and took stock of her situation. A prisoner once more. This time, her captor had taken extra precautions: the window was boarded shut with nailed two-by-fours, cutting off her primary means of escape. Gulping, Max searched for her phone. Which was, of course, missing. It took a few more moments for her new reality to sink in. She was helpless in this situation--no amount of rewinding was going to reward her with freedom.

_I'm... I'm just going to have to wait? Screw that. But, what else can I do?_

She began to pace, slowly, trying to work some new solution. The highest priority was finding Chloe. Calvin alluded to something bad, before he captured her. What had he meant?

 _She put up "quite the fight?" He... that can't mean... No. I refuse to believe it. That just, can't be true. She_  has _to be okay._

But the welt of doubt was placed, and Max could feel a surging wave of panic taking hold. She remembered words having a sense of finality to them.

Muffled voices from the living room interrupted her thoughts before she could plunge further into madness.

"... I know, I get it. Something needs to be done. We've already handled that blue haired punk. She won't be telling anyone."

Max felt her heart stop. Her legs became unable to hold her weight, and she fell to the floor, catching herself with both hands. More tears began to form under her eyes as she gripped the carpet.

"She was the real problem, anyway," Calvin's voice continued. "Trust me, I can control Maxine. She's not a threat. Hell, I could have her committed, on grounds of self harm. Nobody would believe some crazy tale of the city prosecutor bankrolling an illegal police operation."

"Not good enough, Calvin." Max wasn't sure, but the other voice sounded like Eric Landhauser himself. "Those two girls learned far more than anyone ever should about what happened that day. My--our--entire _careers_ are at stake here. I simply cannot,  _will not_ , take this risk!"

"You seemed fine taking risks earlier."

"This is different. I trust you. I do not trust your little brat of a niece."

There was a pause, for almost a minute, while neither man spoke. In the silence, Max did her best to suppress sobs, the weight of their words fully sinking in.

 _I'm so sorry, Chloe... I'm so sorry. I should've been there. I should've never left your side. This... this is such_ bullshit _. Why did I even get this stupid power, if she was just going to die anyway? I... we... we didn't_ fix _anything!_

"Fine. But let me do it, alright? I'll make it look like a suicide. She's being bullied at school. Everyone will believe it."

"I'm well aware. Both my boys have taken to tormenting her, I've learned. I guess Drew overhead you complaining to me about how she blames you for her... unsavory habits."

Max's heart quickened its pace as she heard the steps fall one by one toward her door.

_I... should I just give up? I don't know if I can keep doing this... Chloe..._

The urge to see her friend's face, at least one more time, became paramount. Remembering the photo she took with Chloe's gifted camera, she tore through her satchel with crazed abandon. Calvin had removed her phone, but fortunately had let her keep the bag. Within moments she held the photo in front of her, eyes still bleary with tears. She slumped on to the floor, staring at it.

Max took in their happy faces, letting a tear fall onto the photo. Then, strangely, the picture seemed to shimmer. She could even hear Chloe's voice, faintly. Upon hearing her bedroom door unlock, a powerful reverberation permeated throughout the entire room. It was so powerful, so omnipresent, that it took her breath away. The door opened, and Calvin stepped through, a rope in hand. As he approached, the reverberation happened again, this time with even more intensity. Chloe's voice grew in clarity, as if she was standing in the room. Calvin's feet appeared appeared in the periphery of her vision. Slowly, everything faded to white.


	8. Narrow Focus

"Together forever!" Chloe chirped, sliding back to the driver's position with a sly smile.

_What, the, hell. How am I back here? Is this... my power?_

A strange pressure filled the cabin of the truck, building an almost suffocating hum, like a phantom bass player was drawing out a single, low note. Max carefully took in the scene: the seats, window shield, doors, dash, and of course Chloe all existed. It felt real. But outside? There was nothing but a blur, a hazy morass of colors, shifting slowly in random directions.

"Max. Earth to Max. Hello?" Chloe began waving a hand around Max's face, whose expression remained stoic and faint.

 _She's... she's_ alive! _Right here! In front of me! I have to do something. I have to... change things! I_ can't _let today happen!_

The tidal wave of emotion of this happy moment, combined with Chloe's destined fate later in the day, hit Max with unrelenting force. Without thinking, she threw herself at Chloe, clutching her friend in a tight embrace.

"Whoooa there girl, easy!" Her expression turned to concern when she saw the tears welling in Max's eyes. "Hey, come on. School day is like, what, six hours? We'll be up and out of here before you know it."

"No, Chloe," Max sobbed back. "We _won't_. Chloe, I don't know how, or why, but I can tell you for _sure_ that things won't go down that way. I know what you're planning. You're going to confront Eric and Calvin yourself, right? On your own?"

Chloe went stiff, unsettled at Max's precognitive knowledge. "How--I mean, well... yes. Max, those two assholes have it coming. And, I didn't want to involve you. You've done enough. Hey, are you cheating? Using your powers?"

The tears kept coming as Max shook her head. "Chloe, they're going to _kill_ you. It _happened_. I'm... this, I don't know how I'm here Chloe, but I am. And you can't do whatever you're planning. I... I can't _lose_ you again. I won't!"

Max's tearful confession gave Chloe pause, and for a short moment she had no reply. She stared at Max, contemplating the meaning of her words.

"Max, I... I thought you could only go back a few minutes? That means, whatever happens, is going to--"

"No," Max interrupted, "This power--it's something new. It's much later for me. I've already _lived_ this day, Chloe. Somehow I focused on this picture," Max paused to wave the Polaroid around in the air, "and I'm _back_. Chloe, I swear, this is the first time I've done this."

"Okay, Max. Okay. I believe you," Chloe assured. "So, apparently, Chloe's get-vengeance-and-drive-off-into-the-sunset plan was a bust, so... hit me with what you've got."

Max half laughed, half gasped at Chloe's non-nonchalant acceptance. "I need a second. Seriously, things were so fucked Chloe. Calvin kidnapped me after school. He fucking tased me! Then I was locked in my room, and Calvin was coming to m-m-murder me." Max couldn't hide the tremble in her voice as she finished her explanation.

Chloe's face went from a hesitant smile to a furrow of concern. She put a hand on Max's shoulder, giving it a tight squeeze.

Regaining her composure, Max continued, "But, I don't think they know yet. About you, that is. Not until you confront them. S-so, right now, I'm pretty sure, they don't know _we_ know about Rachel. So please, let's, let's just leave? Hit the road? W-we might get stopped. Calvin or Eric might call in favors. He knows what your truck looks like. But we have to at least _try_."

Chloe returned her look for a few, long moments. Max could imagine the battle in her head--the thirst for vengeance for Rachel, for Max, balanced against the ominous ravings of her friend.

Quietly, Chloe asked, "So they just... get away with it? I don't know if I can live with that, Max."

The soft, instrumental background hum began to grow in volume. Something was changing. Max could feel it in every fiber of her being.

"Chloe, I--I think my power is running out. Listen, I don't know what's going to happen... just _please_ , let's stay together?" Another tear formed in her eye as she clasped Chloe's hand in both of hers. "Don't leave me, okay? You have to promise me."

Strange hiccups and jitters were beginning to form in the fabric of reality, and Max knew for sure that her grip on this moment of time was slipping. Whatever she had come here to do was done, and it was time to face the consequences. As the world faded to white, Max heard Chloe's earnest words.

"I promise, Max. I'll be here."

* * *

A soft melody, one Max wasn't familiar with, hummed as reality regained focus. It came in bits and pieces: sound, vision, then feeling. As quickly as it started, Max found herself completely grounded. As if nothing strange had happened at all. Except, she wasn't in her room. She recognized her surroundings instantly: she was standing in the middle of Chloe's motel room.

_Oookay. What--what happened? W-When am I?_

A quick glance at her phone informed her it was almost six o'clock. Around about the time she had stared into the photograph, while awaiting a grim fate on the floor of her bedroom.

_Holy shit. Did I... what did I do? Did I actually change things? And where's Chloe?_

A quick survey of the room revealed, beyond any reasonable doubt, that Chloe was still around. A beanie hung on a chair post. Her cell phone and various other personal affects laid strewn about the room. But her friend's personage was no where to be found. Max bit back a small wave of panic, trying to keep calm until she could figure out exactly what happened.

_Alright. I looked into that photo, and then I was back to when I took it! I talked to Chloe, and hopefully convinced her not to confront Eric and Calvin. And then... I'm here. This is so insane. But, look at all this stuff lying around. She can't be far. And she's got to be okay. So, I guess, we just hung out all day? But why?_

Unsure of what to do next, Max took a seat at the foot of the bed, clasping her hands together and thumbing nervously. Although Chloe's absence made her anxious, it was nevertheless good to have a minute, a moment of quiet, after the insanity of the past few days. Chloe had probably just stepped out for a moment. Smoke a cigarette, or something. Feeling suddenly worried, Max rose and walked over to the windows, which were completely blocked by heavy drapes. She moved one aside with an index finger, peeking into the dark parking lot. Chloe's truck was still there.

_Thank god. So, we stayed here all day. What did we do? What did we talk about? I can't remember anything. And why didn't we just hit the road?_

Max decided to busy herself while she waited for answers. She took a quick inventory of the room. The stolen money was still there, as were the files on Rachel and Jefferson. Chloe's suitcase remained sprawled in a corner, clothes haphazardly draping out from its sides. Chloe's cell phone, which Max realized was the source of the music, transitioned to a different song.

On the small accent table, placed by the television, Max noticed a notepad, with a pen seated on top of it. She picked it up, and began to read.

 

 

> Mad-Max's Photopower Theories
> 
> 1\. Came back from a timeline to create this one, and then ceased to exist?
> 
> 2\. Will return to her own timeline, and be murdered? While we get to have another chance? Multiverse?
> 
> 3\. Future Max merges with Max? Max gains the memories of day that didn't happen?
> 
> 4\. Future Max takes over tonight? What happens to this Max?

The last theory was circled, in a way Max knew she would draw. Apparently her other-self did "exist," and had spent the day brain storming with Chloe. And apparently, her other-self predicted what might happen. The notes also implied her other-self had no memory of going to school, of being captured. Is that why they kept a low profile? Just wait it out, hoping that the Max who knows what's going on might come back? Max shook her head, unsettled by the implications of her newfound power.

_This is really fucked up. What if I had jumped back years? What... what would that mean?_

Max found herself suddenly frustrated. She had _begged_ Chloe to abandon her mission, to just get on the freeway and drive south. Why were they still here? Realistically, they were still in danger. Calvin and Eric might not know that their dark secret had been revealed, but Calvin still has his obsessive, controlling behavior. And it had been over a day since Max had ceased all communications. According to her phone records, her mother and Calvin had only given up calling and texting at around noon today. Thankfully, her other-self had screened all their calls. But if she knew Calvin, he would be livid right now. Even with only a lose description of Chloe's truck, he could track them down. The cops had eyes everywhere. And a motel would be a logical place to look.

Max gritted her teeth, determined that, if Calvin did by some chance locate them, she would _not_ let that bastard get the drop on her again. No more clever quips before using her power. She unconsciously moved a hand to where he had tased her--there was no mark, no nothing. Like it never happened.

_Which, I guess, is true. Only in my memories... So much has happened, and it's crazy how much of it is connected! Drew and Jacob were bullying me because they overheard Calvin complaining to Eric. That, and they just like having someone to pick on, I think. I guess getting Victoria to help out made their lives easier. Not as if they had to do much work. Just sick Victoria and her hounds on me, lean back, and watch the fireworks. Then Chloe stormed back into my life, dying right in front of me, ultimately because of Calvin's obsession with bringing down Jefferson. And my power. Powers, I guess. I wish Chloe would get back... I'm going crazy just stewing here by myself!  
_

Apparently by divine will, the door swung open in tandem with Max's thought. In the entrance stood Chloe, a bag looped around one arm, with a hand holding a coffee tray containing two drinks. She quickly slipped inside the room, shutting the door behind her, giving Max a quick nod.

"Fuel obtained! I know we've been scooby-doing this mystery all day, but there's got to be something we haven't thought of," she remarked while placing the coffee on an end table, and settling the grocery bag on the bed. It was filled with chips, beer, smokes, and other unhealthy snacks.

The shock wore off, and reality set in. Chloe was here, alive. Max let out a suppressed gasp, mixed with a sob, and collided with Chloe, nearly knocking her friend off balance.

"Haa, yeah Max, it's good to see you too. You... you okay? You look pale. Well. More pale than usual."

Max rubbed her face in Chloe's shirt, refusing to let go. "You're alive, you're alive," she mumbled.

"Max? What's up?" Chloe's voice grew a hint of concern in it. "You're being weird..."

Max pulled herself away, wiping a tear that had formed in her eye. She drew in a shaky breath, and began "It's, it's _me_ , Chloe. From the truck. I guess, earlier in the day, for you? When I took that picture, remember?"

Chloe appeared dumbstruck for a moment, before silently mouthing the words "holy shit."

"Wait--you're serious? Then, what happened to the Max I've been hanging with all day?"

Max looked at the floor, suddenly sheepish, and ashamed. It was as she suspected. "I... I don't know, Chloe. As I said, it was the first time I've used that power. I'm still trying to figure out how it works!"

Chloe nodded slowly, while taking a step back, and considering Max thoughtfully. "So, you don't remember any of today, past the back-to-the-future moment in my truck?"

"I remember _a_ day. Just... not this one. I'm... I'm sorry, Chloe..."

Chloe took a step forward, placing a hand on Max's head. "Hey, it's alright. Look, given what you said, it sounds like things were completely fucked in that other timeline, right?"

Max stayed silent, and simply nodded in reply.

"So you did what you had to do. I won't lie, it's... kinda messed up. But, better than being dead, I guess?"

"Chloe, from my perspective, I _just_ had that conversation with you in the truck. When I left, did I say anything?"

Chloe bit her lip, taking a pause before responding. "No... you just sorta spaced, and then came to. You were hella confused when I started pressing for more details. I know, during your time antics, you wanted to leave right away. But, Max, I just wasn't ready for that. Not even sure if I am now. Not when there's still a chance we could take care of Eric."

Chloe paused for a breath, taking a turn around the room. "When, well, _you_ , left, the, uh, other Max thought that I was still taking you to school. So I filled you--her?" Chloe slanted an eyebrow in confusion, and quickly continued "--in on what happened. That your future self talked to me. You were crazy confused, but went along. We--well, I, figured I could keep my promise, and abandon my plan by just holing up for the day in the motel room, and try to work out what the fuck just happened. I got you to agree that it was too crazy to take off without knowing what's really going on. So we spent the day just chilling here. It... it was good. Caught up on some things. Though, I guess we'll need to do that again?"

"It's a long drive down to Oregon," Max mused, hopefully.

A smile formed on Chloe's face at Max's words. "Hell yeah it is. But... I still don't feel good about this, Max. They're going to get away with _murder_." The smile vanished, replaced with a somber, more fierce expression, and Chloe began to pace the room. "Like, I want to, but I can't just go back and live life, knowing that Rachel's never going to get her fair shake."

"Running away doesn't mean giving up, Chloe," Max answered. "I know it feels wrong, but it's the right move. And don't forget we have this evidence," she said while pointing to the folders they collected from Eric Landhauser's house. "I'll bet if we show these to the right people, we could get some serious traction. I know you want quick justice for Rachel. But it's not the only way. We can bring them down, together, on our own time."

Chloe paused her frantic movements, and slowed to a stop in the middle of the room. "I miss her, Max," she whispered. Her voice rose as she continued, a crescendo building into a shout. "I, I just... it _hurts_. I want her _back_ , dammit! And those fuckers took her from me!"

Max gritted her teeth. She had been worried, even this morning, about staying in Seattle, while screening her mom and Calvin. But given what she experienced in the first day, she realized just how serious the situation could get.

"Chloe, there's no world where they don't get what's coming to them. But we are  _not_ safe here. Today I saw exactly what these assholes are capable of. We need to get somewhere safe. Far away from Seattle. Then we can figure this out!"

"That's _bullshit_ , Max. You have more power than a 20-megaton bomb!"

"My powers aren't limitless, Chloe," Max countered, eyeing her shoes. "Just the other day, while at school. They, ran out. I tried to rewind, and just couldn't. Like I was hitting a wall or something." Chloe opened her mouth to voice a retort, but closed it quickly, apparently thinking the better of it. Max continued. "Listen, Chloe, yes, maybe we could take them on. Maybe we'd win. And maybe not. My powers give us an edge, but _not_ a guarantee."

"You're underestimating yourself, again, Caulfield. God, you really haven't changed a bit, have you?" Chloe gave a resigned sigh, flopping her arms to her sides, and hunching over slightly. "... Fine. So, I assume you have a plan?"

"More an immediate course of action. Let's just _leave_ , Chloe. Get the hell out of here. Once we're somewhere safe, we can regroup, figure out our next step. But the longer we stay here? The more time Calvin has to find me. And he _will_ , Chloe. We've already pushed our luck enough, staying here all day. I've been gone for over twenty-four hours. He could put out a missing persons notice. Or file the paperwork to track my cell phone."

The idea of being wirelessly tracked seemed to get Chloe's attention. "Dude, we can just buy you another phone. Should just ditch that one."

She had a point. Given the little Max knew about these things, it was unlikely Calvin had that ability to track her via her phone just yet. There are rules to follow, procedures. Paperwork and signatures. Things that take time.

"Good idea. I guess I can buy a pay-by-minute phone until we figure that out."

Chloe nodded in response. Her head cocked, as if an idea just sprung to mind. For a quick minute she feverishly used her phone, browsing around for something. "Oh shit, Max. Fuck me." She turned the phone's screen so that Max could view. Staring back was her own picture. The URL was of the MUPU, or the Missing & Unidentified Persons Unit.

Max covered her mouth, spellbound by the image on her happy self on the screen. "They actually did it," she finally said. "Fuckers. Chloe, this is _bad_."

"And it gets worse. There's an amber alert out for a 1982 Ford F-150 with Oregon plates. Max, that's _my truck_."

Max furrowed her eyes, rubbing both hands on either temple. Why hadn't they just run, like she asked this morning, during her time in the photograph? They could've been halfway through Oregon by now! The thought of using the photograph again came to mind. If she could jump back again, and try even harder? Would it work? Chloe from "then" still seemed dead set on using any excuse to stick around. Would it do any good? Or would she just burn more time? Then there was the whole "overwriting" herself bit.

_Until I figure that out more, I shouldn't use it again. But I'll keep that photo. And take more. For emergencies._

Collecting herself, Max grabbed Chloe by both arms, and gave her a serious look. "They want to play hardball? Fine. Let's play."

* * *

"Ow! Careful Chloe, jeez."

"Don't be a baby Max. Almost done."

With Max's image displayed to every officer of the law in the state, it seemed prudent to make a few changes to her physical appearance. Chloe jumped at the idea to dye Max's hair. She had strange notions of hot pink and other loud colors. Max talked her down to jet black.

Max "mpphed" in reply. She had never really seriously considered doing this.

"You should just be glad we don't have to bleach."

Max let out a breath to calm herself, with both hands steeled against the bathroom's tub. Despite the uncomfortable position, and Chloe's sometimes rough handling, it was oddly calming, intimate experience.

"How long will this last, anyway?"

"It's semi permanent, so a while. But it won't last forever. I'm still holding out for that pink."

Max rolled her eyes. "In your dreams, girlfriend." Did Chloe's hands just tense?

Chloe let out a shaky chuckle. "This is just the first step. You'll see. We'll tear down this hipster facade and let lose the inner Max punk within! And, I think we're done! Behold!"

Max stood, and took a hard look at her reflection in the mirror. A changed person stared back--she almost didn't recognize herself. Which, all things considered, was exactly the point. Chloe shuffled around in her bag of "make-over goodies," and handed Max a large pair of sunshades. She put them on without hesitation.

"Looking _sick_ , mad-Max. Ready to roll some fools?"

"Ready to shoot up with some junk, more like. I seriously look like Uma Thermon from Pulp Fiction."

"Well, take it easy on the smack there, champ. I forgot my epinephrine injector back home."

Max gave Chloe a light punch in the arm before wandering back out into the motel's bedroom. Most of their affects were packed and ready to go at a moment's notice. The stash of stolen money was already proving useful. As luck would have it, a used car dealership was positioned just across the street from the motel. So while she was out shopping, Chloe bought a cheap, mid '90s Camry. Not exactly her cup of tea, but Max made it clear she should get something that wouldn't draw attention.

"We'll get your truck back Chloe, I promise," Max assured when she saw her friend staring out the window with a wistful expression.

"It's... whatever. Really, Max. I'm cool."

Max wasn't convinced, but let it slide. The truck would probably be impounded at some unreasonable fine. Which, given their newfound wealth, shouldn't be a problem. But that would be a battle to tackle after Eric and Calvin.

Chloe cleared her throat, shifting her feet a little while looking at the wall. "So, I hate to even suggest it, but there is someone I know that we could bring those files to, who'd probably be able to handle things. We're not on the best terms or anything, but Rachel's father is a district attorney. If we give him this file, he should be able to take it from there. I just, _really_ don't want to talk to that ass-hat again."

"Rachel's dad is a _district attorney?_ Chloe, the hell?" Chloe spread her arms wide, shrugging her shoulders in response. "Alright, alright," Max acquiesced. "Yes. That sounds like a _very reasonable_ plan." Max frowned, realizing that proposing this idea probably took a strength of effort from her friend. "Thank you, Chloe. I know you don't like this, getting justice using the system. But trust me, it's the only way we come out on top."

"I know, Max. I know." She paused to stare at the ceiling, and then gave the entire room a long look. Most everything was already packed into their new vehicle, their presence now evidenced only by empty wrappers and empty beer bottles. Max had insisted they leave a healthy tip for the cleaners. With a slightly somber expression, she continued, "Let's just get this over with, yeah?"

Max crossed the room, taking Chloe's hand in hers. She gave her friend a warm smile, nodding, and gave the grip on each other's hands slight squeeze. This was it--it was time to put their plan in motion. To escape from Seattle, and start an uncertain and tumultuous journey. Their chance of success was far from certain. But the adventure, with its perils and joys, would be spent together. 

"Let's go home, Chloe."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter concludes "Act I." Hope everyone is enjoying this so far. I apologize for the delayed update. My cat died earlier this week (fuck you cancer!), so I haven't been able to concentrate as well.
> 
> Anyway, more to come.


	9. Intermission

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the lack of regular updates. I'm making good progress on the next chapter, so hopefully it'll be ready soon. In the meantime, here's a short little interlude that switches perspectives and sets the stage for what's next.

Joyce sighed. Overcoming her hesitation, she began flipping through her now-deprecated Rolodex in search of the Caulfield's home phone number. Intellectually, she knew not much time had passed, but it still felt like ages since she'd talked to either Ryan or Vanessa. Those happy days seemed a whole lifetime ago. That being said, Max's parents were never really anything more than acquaintances. It was always their girls that tied the two families together. After William passed, and the Caulfields moved to Seattle, Joyce felt that a life chapter had closed, and that it was time to move on. That was Joyce's decision, at least. Her daughter had other ideas about how to cope with loss.

She finally found the card with a handwritten number on it, under the label "Caulfield, Ryan and Vanessa." One by one she punched the numbers into her cordless phone, and took a deep breath when the phone began to ring. This was a long shot. And perhaps an unwelcome one. How would Ryan or Vanessa react, hearing from a ghost from the past? She closed her eyes, fingers twitching nervously at her side. Someone picked up after the first ring.

" _Hello?"_ A woman's voice on the other end of the line asked. Joyce immediately recognized it as belonging to Vanessa.

"Hi, Vanessa. This is Joyce Price. From Arcadia Bay?"

" _Joyce... oh! Hi, yes, hello Joyce. It's been too long. I apologize, it's a little late, and I'm a bit out of sorts."_

Joyce gave her best good-natured chuckle, and answered "I think that makes two of us, then. Listen, I know this is a bit of a long shot, but our daughter, Chloe, has just up and disappeared. She told us she was headed to Seattle, but we haven't heard from her since. Darn girl won't answer her phone, or even respond to text messages. I was wondering if, by chance, she's gotten in touch with Max?"

Dead silence stretched for a number of seconds on the other end of the line. Joyce could make out some sort of muffled conversation. As if someone were holding a hand over their phone's mouthpiece. " _Hi, Joyce? I'm sorry about that. And I'm sorry to hear about Chloe, I know exactly how you feel. I'm also missing a daughter, since yesterday._ "

Joyce raised an eyebrow at Vanessa's usage of a singular pronoun to refer to her daughter.

"Seems to be contagious, then," Joyce joked, trying to bring a bit of levity to the conversation. She could swear that something sounded off about Vanessa. Like she had been drinking. But why would she be drinking when her daughter's gone missing?

" _Joyce, I have to tell you. I'm really worried about Max. She's been in poor mental health for a while now, ever since Ryan died. But it's really gotten quite worse over the past couple of months. I'm afraid that she's a danger to herself, and possibly those around her. Poor girl blames herself for Ryan's death."_

"My word, Vanessa. I am so sorry to hear that. About both Ryan and Max. I know first hand just how hard it is."

Another short silence ensued. Joyce concluded that Vanessa was definitely having a conversation with someone else. In the meantime, she considered what she had just learned. Ryan's dead? It seemed strange Vanessa didn't at least reach out. " _Thank you. Yes, I suppose we both have something in common now. Listen, Joyce, over the past few days, Maxine has been spending time with someone new. We don't know who it is. But they drive an eighties Ford F150. I don't suppose-"_

Joyce cut Vanessa off. "That would be my daughter, beyond a shadow of a doubt." Joyce couldn't help but relax a little. Despite the assertion Vanessa just made about Max, she was happy that Chloe had reconnected with her old friend. The two were always so inseparable. And Max would surely be a better influence than that Rachel girl, mental health problems or no.

Another brief conversation ensued in the background. " _Joyce, thank you so much for calling. This has really been a huge help. It's so good to know that at least it's Chloe she's with. I don't suppose you know why Chloe was in Seattle, in the first place?"_

Joyce huffed, replying, "She's on some wild goose chase. One of her friends, a rambunctious young woman named Rachel, just packed up and left town. Was headed to Seattle, for some photo shoot or something. At least that's what my daughter claims. That was a while ago, and no one's heard from her since."

The muffled, background conversation rose discernibly in volume. It could just be her imagination, but it sounded like someone--a man--had shouted.

Vanessa continued. " _Joyce, I need you to listen to me carefully. We think Maxine and Chloe might be headed down to Arcadia Bay. If they do, it's_ imperative _that you call the police, and turn Maxine over to them. We've already put out a missing persons notice for her, so the police might find them along the way. But if they don't, please, call the police, and let them handle it? I know this is a lot to ask, but Maxine is truly unstable right now, and we're worried sick about what she might do."_

It was Joyce's turn to respond with a spell of silence. Joyce had thought she got to know Max pretty well over the years, and what Vanessa was saying didn't match up to her memory of the young, bright, happy girl at all. Then again, the teenage years are always the most trying. And Chloe had changed so much after William's death. Why wouldn't Max?

"Alright, Vanessa. I promise I'll do that. We'll get her home, safe and sound."

" _Thank you so much, Joyce. And thank you for calling. You've doing a good thing. For everyone."_

"Okay then. You have a good night now."

Joyce pressed a button on the handheld to end the call, setting it back down on the end table. From the living room, she heard David call out, "So did you learn anything? Have you friends heard from her?"

Joyce pursed her lips while considering a reply to her husband. "Yes. Yes, David, I think I learned quite a lot."


	10. Hope

The morning began with a loud _crash,_ and Max's otherwise peaceful and much needed slumber came to an abrupt, sudden end. For a moment she was disoriented, unsure of where she was or what was happening. Then memories of the previous night came flooding back: the long, dark drive from Seattle to Arcadia Bay. Both girls were so freaked by Calvin and Vanessa, they hardly made any stops along the way. The long, bleary-eyed drive from northern Washington to mid-Oregon left both girls weary and drained. It was past 3:30 AM when they finally pulled up at Chloe's house. Max hazily conjured a recollection of them sneaking up the stairs, through a dimly lit but nostalgically familiar house. Things got permanently blurry after that, she barely remembered crashing on Chloe's bed without a moment's further thought. Despite an unhealthy amount of consumed caffeine, both girls were at the end of their respective candles by the time they completed their journey, and bed beckoned to them like a siren.

And so, with Chloe's step-father's brash opening, their collective hopes of a "soft introduction" of Max to David were dashed in an instant. Chloe awoke moments later, while the stockily built man in his mid thirties stood in the doorway, hand still on the doorknob. His expression of shock quickly gave way to a gravely serious frown. He released his grip on the door to fold his arms, and straighten his back.

"Maxine Caulfield, I presume," he began.

 _Wait, what? This has_ got _to be "step-douche" Chloe warned me about. But how does he know my name? This guy's just lucky both of us crashed as we were. Doesn't he know not to barge into a girl's room?_

Still groggy, Max rubbed her eyes and threw both legs off the side of the bed, bracing herself with both arms. Taking in David's presence, she couldn't help feel a brief shiver run down her spine. He bore a somewhat striking resemblance to Calvin. Same build, similar haircut. Most frighteningly, same attitude. Without thinking she pushed herself back onto the bed, and up against the back wall, hugging her arms to her chest, keeping a hawkish gaze on David. Before she had a chance to say anything, Chloe responded to David's presence.

"Dude, what the hell? Get out of my room!" She grabbed a nearby shoe and chucked it in David's general direction. It hit the wall next to him, bouncing once on the floor before coming to rest. Chloe pouted at her poor aim. David didn't move a muscle.

"Chloe, you need to come over here _this instant._ We've already spoken to Maxine's mother and she's worried sick. There's a missing persons file for her, Chloe! And she told us all about Maxine's..." David's sentence lingered, as if he was unsure of how to say what he wanted to say.

"Max's _what_ ," Chloe spat. Angrily, she rose to her feet and stormed across the room. Stopping just short of his person, Chloe pointed a finger in David's face and continued, "You need to back the hell off, _soldier_."

David recoiled, but stood his ground, leering over his step daughter. "I'm not going to let some unstable _stranger_ come into _my house_ and put a wedge in this family. I'm sure you know the police are looking for her, Chloe. I'm calling the cops, right now, and that _will_ be the end of it. Maxine is going home, where she belongs, and where she can get the help she needs. This family has enough issues to deal with."

Without further words, David left the room and stomped down the stairs. Chloe swiveled in place mouthing "oh shit" to Max. Max, for her part, was only just recovering from the shock.

"Max, he's serious," Chloe shout-whispered. "He's gonna fucking call the cops, like _right now_. Dude, you have to rewind this. I know I can't keep you hidden up here forever or anything, but if we can talk to Joyce first, I'm sure it'll work out!"

Nodding, and eager to undo whatever it was that just happened, Max raised her hand and rewound time. The rewind exited with an harsh _thud_ , dumping Max out of her power. David had just thrown the door open. "Maxine Caulfield, I presume."

_Wait, what? Why can't I go back any further? I can't rewind past when I was sleeping? Shit!_

Thinking on her feet, Max hopped from the bed, and took stock of the room. There weren't many good places to hide. Except... the closet. Without delay Max pushed some debris aside, and slid herself inside. David, meanwhile, watched in bewilderment. "Maxine, I know you're in th-"

He never finished the sentence. Max rewound once more, this time leveraging the spacial aspect of her power to escape the situation. As before, the rewind stopped cold at the time she had originally woke up.

From inside her hiding place, she watched the ensuing conversation between David and Chloe. "Maxi--Oh." David paused, as if he had witnessed something odd. He took a strong look around the room before speaking further. "Chloe. You're back. About damn time! Do you have any idea how worried your mother has been? And what the hell happened to your truck? Whose sedan is that out there?"

Blurry eyed, Chloe flopped around in the bed, not bothering to address David directly. With a groan, she answered, "I don't know, it's gone, and it's mine. There. Are we done here?" She completed her statement with a fierce yawn and buried her face deeper into the pillow. "Wait a sec," she said. A look of worry and confusion seeped into her face as she padded around on the bed. "What the..."

"Missing something?" David questioned.

"N-no..." Chloe trailed off.

David huffed, and shifted his weight in place, while giving the room another thorough look over, as if he was searching for something. "Right. Well. Your mother is going to want to have a serious talk with you. I'm going to be running late for my job soon, but don't think for a second that won't continue this conversation tonight, young lady."

"Perish the thought," Chloe intoned sarcastically.

With a gruff nod, David left the room, shutting the door behind him. A silence filled the space. Max remained where she was, lost in thought about what she had just seen. Chloe hadn't pulled any punches when describing David, and so far he had definitely lived up to the image Max had created in her head.

_God. Out of the fryer, into the pan..._

Was she safe here? In Max's fantasies of this situation, she and Chloe and Joyce would be happily living together, going to school, eating meals, living life. They never had the element of some strange military veteran. Still lost in thought, Max jump when Chloe slid the closet door open. Chloe gave Max a bemused expression while resting both hands on her hips.

"Maxine Caulfield, hiding in the closet. My my."

Unable to stifle a blush, Max brushed past Chloe, giving her a jab in her side. "Dork," was all she could manage.

For the first time, Max gave herself a moment to fully take in the changes that had occurred to Chloe's room, juxtaposed against her last memory of it. Max realized she was taking in a visual history of her friend's change in mental state of the years, from the somewhat frightening writings on the wall, the depressingly artistic collage of cutouts and posters, to the obvious evolution in musical tastes. She felt a pang of guilt--this was far from the room she remembered, when she and Chloe were besties, years ago. And she had made no effort to stay in touch. 

Taking note of Max's silent observation, Chloe paced about, explaining, "Yeah, I guess I've done a bit of redecorating since you last saw my room. I like it though, it's got a nice... feng shui to it."

"And here I was going to go with cell in an insane asylum," Max jibed.

Chloe mock sighed, throwing her hands up into the air. "All the great artists are never understood..."

"Seriously, though, Chloe," Max redirected. "That was a close call. David was going to call the cops."

Chloe groaned. "Shit, you're serious?" Max nodded in reply.

"God, I knew he had a stick up his ass, but I can't have one friend over without him going nuclear?"

"I don't think that was it," Max corrected. "He _knew my name_ , Chloe. He knew my parents were looking for me."

That revelation gave Chloe pause. She gave Max a thoughtful look.

"Your parents," she pointed at Max, "or my parents," returning the finger to her own chest. "They must've talked to each other last night. Swapped stories."

Max nodded in agreement. Modifying her voice to give her best old person impression, she remarked, "And we would've gotten away with it, if it weren't for those meddling procreators!"

Chloe scoffed at Max's poor imitation before flopping back down onto the bed.

"This _is_ bad though, Max. Our plan was to convince them. Well, Joyce at least. Of our side first. Sounds like Vanessa De Vil beat us to the punch."

Rolling onto her side, Chloe grabbed a small pack from under the bed and began setting up what looked like a cannabis cigarette. Max wrinkled her nose.

"Don't be a baby, Max. It's not even seven and this day is already giving me a headache. Gotta medicate."

Max took a seat on Chloe's small desk chair, using the time to consider their options. David had been explosive, but according to Chloe, and what Max had just witnessed first hand, he was always like that. Joyce would be more reasonable, right? She had to be. Joyce would at least let Max tell her side of the story before doing anything rash, like calling the cops. Max began anxiously rubbing her arm at the thought. Talking about it aloud was still... difficult. Even after opening up to Chloe. It was not a conversation she was looking forward to, but there didn't seem to be any other way.

The one shining light was that the doubt, and fear, of not being believed had been swept away. Thinking back, Max realized how foolish it all was. Sure, her mother didn't believe her, but she had _reason not to_. Calvin was her free meal ticket. More and more Max understood that Vanessa never really got over Ryan's death. Not to say that Max didn't take her father's death as hard. Max still teared up whenever she thought about it. But she had picked up the pieces, and done her best to move on, like her father would've wanted her to. Vanessa, on the other hand, decided to start a second childhood. A childhood bankrolled and funded by her brother.

The pungent smell of marijuana filled the room as Chloe took a deep draw off her joint. Max had little experience with the drug--mostly just walking past kids at school smoking it between classes. She had decided it had a strange odor. And probably wasn't for her. She was still having a hard time wrapping her head around the fact that Chloe was a pot head, though. Chloe had mentioned her habit during their time together over the past few days, but Max almost didn't believe her. It was difficult, and strange, reconciling the woman in front of her now, versus the girl she had abandoned years ago. At the same time, Max found that she actually _liked_ a lot of the changes. The new Chloe was _cool_. Max knew it was silly, and perhaps a bit unhealthy, but she found herself unable resist the strong attraction to wanting to remain in Chloe's good graces. To want to make Chloe think that _she_ was cool _too_.

And then there was the time they spent together Monday night, curled up together on that small, uncomfortable motel bed. The passage of time had done nothing but increase memory's potency. Chloe's close presence that night was the polar opposite to what she was used to, when it came to physical contact. Chloe felt safe, like a warm security blanket. But Monday night was a one-off, Max reminded herself. Chloe was giving comfort to a friend in need, nothing more. Best not to dwell on it.

Interrupting Max's reverie, Chloe spurted, and then erupted into a cacophony of coughs.

"Shit," she swore under her breath between wheezing hacks. "I've gotta get better weed next time."

"And you do this because..." Max trailed off.

Chloe waved Max off with a hand. "Don't knock it till you try it. You especially could really benefit from some some dope, Max. Give you a sense of peace."

"Asthma, more like," Max countered. "I like my lungs healthy."

"Speaking of health," Chloe segued, "we both are in serious need of grub. I can't remember the last time I ate a real meal."

As if in answer to Chloe's wish, a faint, but present, odor of cooking bacon reached both their nostrils. Max's stomach rumbled. Moments later both girls heard some conversation downstairs, and the front door open and close. They listened to the sound of a car starting, and driving off down the street.

Talking to the ceiling, Chloe explained "And St. Pepper has departed, off to annoy and harass the fortunate students of Blackwell Academy."

"Please tell me that means we can eat bacon now," Max mock-pleaded, giving Chloe her best doe eyes.

* * *

Chloe was the first to head downstairs. They figured it might be best if she prepped her mother a bit for the surprise. Plus, Joyce and Chloe undoubtedly had a few things to talk through. Max remained at the top of the stairs, eavesdropping on the conversation below. She gripped the railing, and felt a wave of nostalgia roll over her. How many times had she been in a spot like this, where Chloe ran downstairs, asking if Max could spend the night? Except now the stakes were quite different. Max's very life depended on how this conversation went down. Max silenced her thoughts when she heard Joyce's voice from the kitchen below.

"Chloe Price. Finally decided to show your face again?"

Max could make out a faint grunt in response. "Come on, mom. I was busy. Had a lot going on."

"Too much to spend thirty seconds replying to a text, I assume." Max's could hear the southern sass dripping from Joyce's words. But despite the accusatory back and forth, Max could make out a levity in their banter.

"I... I found a lead," she heard Chloe admit. "About Rachel. Sorry, it just sort of consumed everything."

"And does this lead have a name?"

Max could practically imagine Chloe rolling her eyes in the ensuing silence. "Mom, there's something we need to talk about, now that St. Hartman is off to his daily battles."

"I'm all ears, Chloe. You know I wish you'd just _talk_ to me more, right? And I know I sound like a broken record but you have _got_ to ease up on David. He works hard for this family."

"Ugh, don't make it weird, mom. Listen. Um. Remember Max?"

There was another spell of silence. Max's heart began to thump wildly in her chest. Here it comes. Given how David knew hew full name this morning, Joyce was surely aware that Max could be in the household. How would she respond? Would it be another repetition of their encounter with David?

"Of course, Chloe. It hasn't been that long. What about her?"

"Well... we met up. In Seattle. And... she's back here. Right now."

Max took that as her cue to descend the stairs. Her heart rate hadn't gone down any. This was it--make or break. Of course, if things went completely south, she could just rewind it all away. But... Joyce would understand. She had to believe that. Rounding the corner at the base of the stairs, Max slinked into the kitchen, like a house cat that had been out all night. Within moments, she found herself caught up in a bear hug from Joyce.

Slowly, Joyce pressed Max away from her, and gave Max a solid look-over. "Max Caulfield, if my eyes don't deceive me. Look at you! All grown up."

"Hi Joyce," Max replied, a bit bashfully. "It's great to see you to. It's... been too long."

"Since we've _eaten,_ " Chloe interrupted, making motions in the air towards the living room table.

"Manners, Chloe," Joyce chided. Turning her attention back to Max, she continued, "Max. I spoke with your mother last night. I am so sorry to hear about Ryan."

Max had to stifle a broken sob at Joyce's heartfelt statement. It was a second before she could trust herself to respond. "Thank you, Joyce. It... it's been really hard, without dad. I'm sorry I didn't say anything, I really-"

"I'm going to stop you right there, Max. You don't owe me, or anyone, anything. And, by the way, I love the hair color. Did Chloe do that to you?"

Max took a step back, raising a hand to the back of her head while laughing nervously. "Yeah--she wanted to do hot pink, so we settled for this."

"Of course she did," Joyce replied, shaking her head.

Chloe, who had taken a seat at the table, cleared her throat loudly, leaning back the chair on its rear legs. "Mom, seriously though, we haven't eaten in ages. I know Max is just as starving as I am."

" _That_ , is a problem I can do something about," Joyce replied. Max gave Joyce another warm smile and took a seat adjacent to Chloe at the table. The next few minutes were spent in relative silence as Joyce finished up her trademark bacon and eggs breakfast. By the time the food appeared in front of them, both girls were practically frothing at the mouth. They devoured her breakfasts without delay, while Joyce simply stood back and watched, with a small smile.

When the plates were clean, Joyce grabbed a cup of coffee and took a seat at the table. She grew a more serious expression on her face, and began, "Max. Your mother had some disturbing things to say on the phone last night. She asked me to call the police if you showed up here with Chloe. I said I would."

Max gulped. She felt the joyful, brief levity of the situation evaporate. She knew this was coming, but it still hurt.

"Joyce-", Max started.

"Mom," Chloe interrupted. "Vanessa is one hundred percent full of shit. I swear to you, on Dad's grave." Max was slightly taken aback by the earnestness in Chloe's voice. Chloe looked at Max, and placed a hand on her shoulder. "I got this, Max," she assured. Returning her attention to Joyce, she continued, "Vanessa is hella unstable. Her brother, Calvin, is paying all her expenses, and living with them. And he's _hurting Max_ , Mom. We can... show you. If you insist. But I swear, Mom. Calvin is hurting Max. And he's a cop, and he's put out a missing persons notice, and he's-"

"Chloe, slow down!" Joyce exclaimed. She turned her attention to Max. "Max. Is this true?"

Sullenly, Max gave Joyce a purposeful nod. It was actually a huge relief to not have to relate these facts herself. Chloe was taking this burden on for her. It was embarrassing, but also amazing, all at the same time.

_Chloe... you really do care, don't you?_

Nevertheless, Max felt like she had to say something, if only to back up Chloe's forthright endorsement. "Joyce, my uncle, Calvin... he assaults me." The words felt bitter in her mouth, like saying them aloud made everything _real_. She almost had to choke them out. "I... I told my mom, but she didn't believe me. When I showed her what he did to me, she thought I was hurting myself. She wouldn't-"  Max had to stop, breaking short a sob that had been brewing. Immediately she felt Chloe's hand on her back, moving in soft rubbing motions.

Joyce, for her part, leaned back in her seat, never taking her eyes off Max. She appeared deep in thought. Finally, she leaned forward, and began to speak.

"Max, I've always considered myself a good judge of character. And I believe that you're telling me the truth. When I spoke to Vanessa last night, she never mentioned any uncle, but I could hear her speaking with someone in the background. She also sounded drunk. And some of way she put things was... unsettling."

Both Max and Chloe let lose a breath neither of them realized they were holding. Joyce believed them--that was the first milestone. It was still a rocky road ahead, but they knew, in this moment, that someone was on their side.

"That being said," Joyce continued, "You do have a missing persons notice for you, Max. I can't just hide you here indefinitely. It would put my whole family at risk. I think the right thing to do is to contact a law officer we trust, like Officer Berry. You can tell him your side of the story, and he'll know what to do."

Chloe groaned. "Mooom," she elongated. "You know we can't trust the cops, right?"

"Chloe," Joyce rebuked. "Not every cop is corrupt. I've known Berry since middle school. He's a good man. He'll hear Max out, and do the right thing."

"There's no reality where Max gets send back to that abusive asshole, mom," Chloe threatened. Max couldn't help but feel a warmth in her chest at the statement.

"I agree completely, Chloe. We need to do what's best for Max, that should be our priority. But we're doing her no favors by hiding her. If what you say is true, then we need to get a restraining order against this uncle of hers."

Max felt it was time to speak up again. "That might be more difficult than you think, Joyce. Calvin is a police officer himself. A respected and highly decorated one, at that. I... I don't know what that means, in terms of getting a restraining order."

Joyce huffed. "Max, honey. Don't you worry. Please, let me call officer Berry. We'll tell him everything, and he'll get the paperwork in order. You just need to relax, okay? You are safe, and always welcome in this household. I'll have a talk with my husband before he comes home. He can be a little aggressive towards strangers."

Max had to suppress a roll of the eyes at Joyce's explanation of her husband's behavior. David was a large, unknown, scary factor. There were too many frightening similarities between him and Calvin. Would he behave the same? Would living in this household be a repetition of the horror she had experienced in Seattle? Just like Vanessa, Joyce seemed eagerly ready to give David the benefit of the doubt. But, considering her options, Max didn't feel comfortable contradicting Joyce.

"Okay Joyce," Max consented. "Let's talk to officer Berry."


	11. False Pretenses

Joyce didn't waste time after getting Max's consent to contact the authorities. After their meal, she took the plates and silverware, humming as she did the dishes. Immediately afterwards she brisked into the hallway, lifting the home phone to call the local police station.

Even though Max had agreed to this, she couldn't help but start to get cold shivers while remaining glued to the dining table with Chloe. The whole situation felt a little unreal--they were actually doing this. She was going to have to talk to a cop, presumably to child protective services as well. Incessant thoughts screamed in her head. Would they believe her? Would they commit her to a medical ward, thinking she's hurting herself?

_This whole situation is completely unfair. I'm the victim, here! I haven't done anything wrong. Why do I have to go through all this?_

The two girls listened in earnest as Joyce insisted that she talk to Office Berry. There seemed to be some back and forth on the matter, but eventually Joyce appeared satisfied, giving both girls the thumbs up and a smile.

Max felt a jab in her forearm. Chloe had leaned in close, and was sniffing her clothes.

"Dude, you smell like ass," Chloe remarked under her breath.

" _You_ try running away from home without a pair of clothes to your name, see how you do," Max hushed back in retort.

It was true-- _Chloe_ had gotten the opportunity to change her outfit this morning. A situation during which Max found herself strangely shy. It was odd. They had changed clothing in front of each other plenty during their multitude of sleepovers growing up. Why did it feel so different now? Earlier, when Chloe non-nonchalantly changed her outfit, Max was so fluxed that she forgot to even ask about changing own clothing. Not that Chloe would've been able to help her much there. She was a completely different size now. Max laughed internally at the image of her wearing some of Chloe's outfits.

"Come on," Chloe pressed. "Mom will be on the phone for a while. Let's head back upstairs and," Chloe playfully waved the air between them with her hand, "get you changed. You need a shower too."

"Any other comments, Ms. Umbridge?"

Chloe lightly tugged on Max's sleeve in response, urging Max to rise from her seat and follow up the stairs. Joyce gave both girls a questioning look as they passed. Chloe pinched her nose while pointing at Max in explanation. Max just rolled her eyes as they ascended the stairs. Joyce gave a nodding smile before returning her attention to the call.

Once safely sequestered in the already re-familiarized security of Chloe's room, Max watched as Chloe threw open her closet and began rummaging through clothes on hangers while she talked.

"Rachel... she would stay over a lot. Enough to leave some of her shit here, and she's your size. Um, yeah, here we go. Perfect."

Chloe drew a tight fitting small t-shirt, along with a checkered flannel over-shirt, combined with a pair of jeans that exhibited the "cool" worn-in look which seemed so in fashion these days. Max raised an eyebrow--this definitely wasn't her style. She had trended towards less... tight fitting apparel. For some time now, she had dressed herself in a manner to _not_ attract attention. These clothes were certainly a change in direction.

"Are you sure this is okay, Chloe?" Max questioned. "Me, wearing Rachel's clothes? I mean, it hasn't been that much time since you even learned the truth..."

The words lingered heavily in the air. Enough time passed that Max silently cursed herself for bringing it up. Chloe held Rachel's clothes in her hand, looking at them with a sad expression.

"It's... it's fine, Max. Really." Chloe sighed, squeezing her eyes shut. "She would've loved you, you know? We would've been the best of friends..."

It was strange to see her old companion in such a vulnerable light, especially considering Chloe's new "hardened" image. But underneath it all, Max quickly realized that the girl standing before her was still very much the wounded teenager she left years ago. Surprising herself, Max closed the distance between them, giving Chloe a hug, pressing the clothes between them.

"I hella would be going apeshit right now, you know," Chloe continued, relaxing a bit in the embrace. "if it weren't for you, Max. I really would be all alone..."

"Don't be crazy, Chloe. You still have Joyce."

Chloe gave a single laugh in reply. "Joyce just wants to move on. Like Dad never existed. I can't do that. I'll never do that, Max."

"There's no way Joyce has forgotten William, Chloe. They loved each other so much, we both know that. Everyone deals with death in their own way. At least Joyce came to peace with it. My mom, on the other hand..."

The hug ended gradually, with Chloe pushing the clothes into Max's chest.

"Yeah. I know, I know. Joyce might've married an absolute douche-nozzle, but at least she still cares about me, much as I hate to admit it. Even step-ass himself, in his own fucked up way. What Vanessa's allowed to go down under her own roof." Chloe stopped, shaking her head. "Max... I couldn't imagine. If David starting doing that to me, and I told Joyce, there's no world where she wouldn't kick his ass to the curb, veteran or no."

Max looked at the floor, hugging her new outfit closer. Chloe's attention wandered about the room, settling on her smoking set up. Max took that as her cue to leave. She hadn't completely wrapped her mind around the fact that Chloe was a pothead.

Max knew Rachel's clothes were way outside her comfort zone, but there was something about _being_ with Chloe that permitted a sense of confidence. A courage she hadn't felt in years. Things in the years between their absence had been bad. Horrible beyond imagining. But everything was different now.

_Is it sad that I have to keep reminding myself that it's over--that I'm safe? Once we get the paperwork filed, there's no way Calvin or Eric can touch us. This is my life now... with Chloe. And Joyce. And Mr. "step-ass," come what may with that. It's kinda funny how we haven't discussed the logistics of this. Am I just going to bunk with her, in her room?_

The thought brought an immediate, uncontrollable blush to her face. Chloe had meanwhile strewn herself face up on her bed, and released a pillar of smoke, which rose and fanned out on the ceiling.

"Penny for your thoughts? You look like you're 'bout to burst a gasket. Like, Hanna-Barbera style. Like seriously. You got steam coming out your ears."

Suddenly self conscious, Max turned to face the door, moving swiftly for a prompt exit. "I hear a shower calling my name. You _were_ complaining about my odor?"

Chloe waved her hand dismissively. "Make it so!"

* * *

Max took another whiff of herself before stepping into the running water.

_It's funny. Unless mine olfactory doth deceive me, I don't actually smell that bad. I mean, I've never been one to sweat much. So what was Chloe complaining about, really?_

The thought continued to consume her attention as the much-anticipated hot water rushed over her. Odor or no, it had been a few days since she'd received a good shower. And showers had always been a pet favorite activity. A time to rinse clean, and meditate without fear of interruption.

So much had transpired in so little time. The revelation of Rachel's fate, to Chloe discovering her secret, to their flight from Seattle. Max realized she hadn't had a chance to just stop and _think_. With a small grin, she concluded that things were on course. And her new future granted a full spectrum of opportunities for self reflection. Because Calvin and his buddy Eric were as good as done. She and Chloe had irrefutable proof of their guilt: all that was left to do was give it to the one man who would undoubtedly run with it.

 _What sort of man_ is _Mr. Amber, anyway? Chloe seemed reluctant to even approach him. She only suggested it when going to him seemed a measure of last resort. Is he trustworthy? What if he's just another Eric Landhauser? But... this_ is _his daughter. I have to believe he'll care, and do the right thing._

Her shower-ritual complete, Max turned the faucet to its "off" position and stepped out of the tub, onto the mat. She inadvertently took a melancholy look at herself in the mirror. It was an action she tried best to avoid. Her bruises and scars were still visible, and sent a shiver down her spine, invoking an involuntary self-hug.

A strange pressure grew within her skull, culminating in a roaring noise. It felt like burning white light, given voice, and made manifest. It screamed and roared, and would not be ignored.

 _"Quit struggling, you ungrateful brat! I've given you and your wanton bitch of a mother everything! God, that woman is such a whore. Fucking embarrassment, really, to be related to her."_ _Max took Calvin's brief bemusement as an opportunity to twist free, hoping he distracted his own drunken-self enough to afford her a route for escape. A naive expectation. When his grip tightened, Max reflexively bit his arm. "Bitch! Ya know what you fuckin' need? A god-damn lesson."_ _The next few moments were a blur of movement, ending with him standing, belt in hand, a large grin growing on his face, and--_

Max gasped, falling to the floor of the Price household's bathroom, trying to slow her heart rate.

 _What the fuck was that? Am I this broken? Seriously, that was, like,_ so real _. Like I was back... there. This is so fucked up. Even when I've escaped, will I still be caged? Can I even tell Chloe about this? Or will she just see it as a cry for attention? She's putting up a tough front, but I can tell she's in so much pain... you're not the only one with issues, Max Caulfield!  
_

Gathering herself, Max eyed Rachel's garments.

 _I guess I have to do this. I wouldn't be surprised if Chloe's already burnt my previous armor to cinders. And... Chloe's right. I can wear these. What do I have to lose? I might've been helpless before, but not now. It's the assholes who need to fear_ me _, not the other way around._

Max honestly couldn't tell if she was fooling herself. Yes, her power gave her an unruly edge. But her experience with Victoria in the lunchroom soured her expectations. Ultimately, there was no real harm done. But what if the stakes had been for real?

To her surprise, Rachel's clothes did fit like a glove, as promised. Max took in her new visage from the reflection in the mirror. She appeared as a different person: these new clothes, combined with the change in hair color, offered a completely new image. A new Max. She gave the mirror a smile, and liked who looked back.

* * *

"Joyce! So good to see you."

Officer Anderson Berry offered a quick hug to Joyce, which was readily accepted. Their comfortable bearing set Max at ease as she watched from down the entryway hall. Chloe stood over Max's side, giving the image of a motherly hawk protecting her young.

Giving Joyce a squeeze on the shoulders, Officer Berry looked past her down the hall, and made eye contact with both Max and Chloe.

"Chloe. I have to say, it's been good not to see you."

"Sup, Andy," Chloe replied. Anderson winced at Chloe's familiar use of his name. It was one of his pet peeves--he liked the respect his uniform afforded him. Something Chloe learned a while ago would drive him crazy.

"And you must be Max," Anderson surmised while walking into living room, where both Max and Chloe stood. Officer Berry struck Max as... alright. He didn't have that threatening demeanor so omnipresent among the cops she had known through Calvin. So far he had made no effort to "throw his weight" around. Almost reluctantly, she found herself leaning towards liking him, Chloe's sarcasm not withstanding.

"Hello, officer," Max said as she stepped forward, offering a hand to shake. Berry took it without hesitation, and Max was surprised when he didn't squeeze uncomfortably, but rather maintained a firm grip for a moment, and then let go. More and more, Max was beginning to understand why Joyce trusted this man.

"So. Joyce here says you've run away from home, Max. Is this true?"

"It is, Mr. Berry," Max confirmed with her best "confident" voice.

"Okay then. Well, this _is_ a bit of a problem, Max. By harboring you, both Joyce and David are making themselves liable to being sued by your legal guardians."

"Andy," Joyce cut in. "There's something I didn't explain over the phone."

The conversation stopped, and Berry took in the three women standing in front of him. "I feel like there's a lot more going on here than what's been said," he surmised.

Chloe coughed, while crossing her arms and looking towards the TV. "That would be putting it lightly," she remarked offhandedly.

"Max has something she needs to say," Joyce explained. She turned her attention directly at Max. "Honey, I know this isn't easy, but I need you to tell Berry here what you told me."

This was it. Max bit her lip, suddenly getting cold feet. This situation could be Vanessa all over again. Especially once this man learns the person she's accusing is a cop himself. Wasn't there some "code of blue" between all officers of the law? Would he even hear her out?

Chloe rested a hand on Max's shoulder, giving her an encouraging look. "Max, you know I think all cops are twats, but Berry, well... he's okay. Mom wasn't wrong to bring him into this."

Berry rolled his eyes. "Thank you, Chloe, for the glowing endorsement. You do know we try our best."

Max decided to plunge in, consequences be damned. "Officer, I ran away because I'm being abused at home. Physically, and..." The words almost wouldn't come out. She tried, but it was like a cat caught her tongue.

Berry slowly nodded. "It's okay, Max. You don't need to go into details here. But am I correct in understanding that by staying at home, you are in physical danger?"

"Yes," Max replied, with as much earnestness as she could muster.

"And can you identify your abuser?"

"Yes," Max repeated. "He's my uncle. He lives with us. His name is Calvin Young."

Berry took out his note pad and scribbled down a few words. He then nodded thoughtfully. "Okay, Max. It's really brave of you to do this. A lot of minors in your position are simply too terrified of their abusers to stand up and call them out."

"There's another thing," Max continued. Berry raised an eyebrow, but let Max finish. "My uncle, he's... well, he's also a cop. He works for the Seattle Police Department."

This gave Berry pause. He raised a hand to his chin, rubbing it slowly.

_Shit. This is it. This is where he calls me a liar. This is where he calls up the SPD, tells them he's found a local runaway. This is where hell begins. Again._

"Thank you for your candor, Ms. Caulfield," Berry replied. Max stood in shock. No denials, or refutations of her accusation? "It _is_ a serious thing, to accuse an officer of something like this. But that doesn't mean you shouldn't be taken seriously. If true, this is very grave indeed." Berry gave his notepad a few more notes before continuing. "Max. Here's what we need to do. You need to sign a sworn affidavit that states your case. Then, we need to get child protective services to take you into custody, where you will be safe. At the same time, we can get a domestic violence protective order against Mr. Young. This will be scary, and complicated, but don't worry. I'll be with you every step of the way."

"Bull- _shit,_ you're taking Max into protective custody," Chloe swore. "Mom, you're not going to let them take her, right?"

Joyce gave Berry a hard look. "Andy, Max is a family friend. She's an Arcadia Bay native, for goodness' sake. Before her family moved, she practically lived in this household. There's a reason she chose us as a safe place to run to. Please, isn't there any way that CPS could let her stay with us?"

Berry considered Joyce's words. "Yes, actually. If you can get a CPS officer to sign the appropriate waivers, Max can stay with you. This won't be hard, realistically, if I explain the situation in person."

Joyce put a hand on Berry's shoulder. "You're a good man, officer. I knew we could trust you."

Berry put a hand behind his head, laughing slightly uncomfortably. "Come on now, Joyce. You know we all at the department look after you. After all, without the Two Whales, we'd all starve!"

* * *

The car ride to the Arcadia Bay police station was spent mostly in silence. Max could tell Officer Berry was uncomfortable with the content of the situation. Hell, she understood. She was uncomfortable with it as well. But she agreed to go with the man when he asked, despite Chloe's protests. Chloe has persisted, several times, to go with Max, but Berry said it simply wasn't necessary, and Joyce pressed that she wanted some time alone with her daughter. Apparently they had a few thing things to discuss.

Her close-to-psychedelic experience after being tased aside, this was Max's first experience in a police cruiser. She had to admit, riding shotgun was pretty comfy. And all the gear and equipment seemed pretty cool, as well.

"I can tell you're nervous, Max," Berry began. "and it's completely okay. You seem like a good, honest person. And it's nice to hear you're from the area. How long ago did you move away?"

"Not the long ago," Max replied. "Just shortly after William's death."

Berry nodded, slowly. "I remember Mr. Price. He was a good man. Such a tragedy."

A silence lingered between them. Max wasn't sure how to continue the conversation, and Berry didn't seem eager to offer up new topics. A few minutes later, his cell phone began to ring. He sighed, bringing it to his ear.

_Excuse me? I thought "distracted driving" was a big no-no?_

"Yes? Oh, of course. Yes I'll wait." A few seconds later, Berry continued, "Hello, Mr. Prescott. Yes. Yes. Oh. Are you sure about that? There's got to be some sort of mistake... Oh. I understand. Are you sure? Okay. Okay. Of course, Mr. Prescott. Good bye."

Berry hung up the phone, giving Max an odd look, as if she was some sort of strange alien sitting in his passenger seat. Noticing Max's confused look in response, he quickly interjected "Favors for a friend of the community. Nothing that concerns you, Max."

 _Mr. Prescott. Where have I heard that name? I swear it sounds familiar. From my days back here in the Bay._ _Anyway. Doesn't sound like anything important. Probably just some community donor trying to pull his weight.  
_

The remainder of the trip passed uneventfully. Max used the experience as a time to soak in the changes that have occurred to her hometown in her absence. They were small, but noticeable. Businesses that used to exist, but now had "For Sale" sales on their windows. Numerous houses that had foreclosure signs posted. It seemed that a dark cloud had fallen on Arcadia Bay. Max reminded herself that this was probably the normal state of affairs, outside the "big city bubble." The news constantly talked about how small town America was hurting in the post great-recession crisis. But this was the first she'd actually seen of it.

When they reached the station, Berry gave Max another odd look. Max found it unsettling. He had been so upfront, and nice earlier. What had changed?

Nevertheless, it wasn't as if she could back out now. When Berry parked his cruiser at the police station, she pushed her worried thoughts aside, and followed him into the building. Unsurprisingly, everyone was quite friendly. They gave Max the full small town welcome, and were particularly nice when they learned she was a native.

After pleasantries were exchanged, the expected events occurred. Max wrote, then signed, an affidavit explaining her situation. Berry filed paperwork for CPS. Max was surprised that she never even needed to interview with a case worker. Berry said he had it taken care of. The onslaught of documents and signatures continued, until finally it ended, and Max breathed a sigh of relief. The only remaining task was the one forced to the next day: to give Mr. Amber the files about his daughter. Undoubtedly, that would be an uncomfortable experience, but it was one that must be had.

Then there was the money. It was something she had yet to discuss with Chloe. Should they give it over to Mr. Amber? From an objective standpoint, it was the right thing to do. Surely it would help the case, even if they had taken a little from the stash to pay for their safe journey from Seattle. But Chloe seemed so hopeful at the promise the small fortune gave. A fulfilled dream of freedom. A covenant of escape. Max didn't feel comfortable prying that from her.

_Yet another uncomfortable conversation. Seems like there's been too many of those recently. It's funny... I already know, ahead of time, that I'll just do whatever Chloe wants. Is that crazy? Or unhealthy?_

Max pondered the question while waiting for a ride back to the Price residence. It was almost midday now. These things always took longer than one would think.

"Max, good news," Berry exclaimed, walking up to her seat in the station's lobby. "Everything is ship-shape, and you're cleared to stay with the Prices. You ready to go home?"

"You have no idea, Mr. Berry," Max replied. It was time to go home. A real home, where she could feel safe, and be welcomed. Where she could feel loved.


	12. Taking Flight

"I hope Joyce didn't give you too hard of a time while I was gone," Max questioned while Chloe drove.

"Don't worry Max," Chloe assured. "No soul is impervious to my lies."

"Even me?" Max scoffed, half joking, half serious.

"She just wanted to know exactly what I'd been up to. God, she's always so nosy. One of the many reasons we don't get along much anymore... But she drilled particularly hard on the car."

Max had wondered about that. Chloe's new ride was cheap, but tangible step up in quality from the truck. Joyce and David would surely wonder where it came from, and how she afforded it. Max giggled as she imagined David fuming all day at work, wondering about the mystery of Chloe's new wheels.

"So what tale did you weave?" Max inquired.

"Told her I sold the truck, and did some gig work. I mean, it's a half truth, right? Our pirate's bounty from Land-fucker's house was payment for a job well done, as far as I'm concerned."

Max nodded, adding her friend's remark to her mental file about Chloe's feelings toward the money.

 _As I suspected. She's going to want to keep it. I mean, can I blame her?_ I _want to keep it. In addition to my power, it does add a sense of security. If we need to run again, we have some spending cash for the trip. Though, with this power, couldn't I get money other ways? Of course, it'd have to be a victimless crime. I don't want to steal from some old granny..._

Max realized she never gave Chloe a response. "Arrrr. And what a bounty it 'twas," she answered, putting on her best pirate impression.

Chloe's frown turned into a smile, and she took her eyes off the road for moment to give Max a sideways glance. "God, it wasn't that long ago, huh, that we used to terrorize and plunder this whole town?"

Max looked out at the ocean, which was just to their right, as Chloe continued to drive them towards their destination. The road was an empty arterial, snaking gracefully along Arcadia Bay's beach. Despite there being no traffic, Chloe was actually going the speed limit. She _had_ mentioned something about wanting to kill time, and get out of the house.

When Officer Berry dropped Max back off at the Price household, Max had let loose a breath she didn't know she was holding. Chloe jumped at the sight of her at the door, rushing to give her a full hug, followed by a tug on the shoulders. Apparently, Chloe wanted nothing more than to leave. She gave Max a brilliant smile, but frowned when Joyce interrupted their reunion, shooting small daggers in her mother's direction. Joyce rolled her eyes, and gave Max a small smile and a wave, asking if everything went okay. Max replied it had. Joyce explained she would be gone when they got back--her shift at the Two Whales was starting in under an hour. By this point Chloe was practically shifting on her tip-toes, holding the front door open, pulling at Max's arm. The attention was a little overbearing, but it felt... good.

Max's enthusiasm died a little when she learned the goal of their current errand. Returning to the moment, she answered Chloe's rhetorical question with one of her own.

"I get that you like pot and everything, and that's cool, but should I really meet your dealer? He'll probably think that I'll narc on him or something."

"Dude, just be chill. Act how you look, girl!"

Max tried to internalize Chloe's point. She _was_ a changed person. Physically, at least. Rachel's outfit and her hairstyle made her look more "hip" than she ever had memory being. But one needed to hold themselves correctly to actually _sell_ an outfit. Max found the idea of having to be essentially "as suave as Chloe" around her dealer was more than intimidating.

"I know, you're right. I... I need to get out of my comfort zone more."

Chloe grabbed Max's shoulder, rocking her back and forth a little. "Hella yes you do. Listen, it'll be fine. You just stand there and look awesome. I'll do most of the talking. And it won't take long, we'll be in and out. Oh, and there's something I forgot to mention. My dealer, Frank, I... kinda owe him some cash. Expenses for operation _Finding Rachel._ "

Max narrowed her eyes. "You're in debt to a drug dealer?" she questioned, not sure if Chloe was joking.

" _Owed_ money, Max. _Owed_. At least, after this."

Chloe brought the car to a stop, haphazardly parked across several spots, in the middle of a vacant parking lot. Except for a lonely RV, down at its far end.

_Drug dealers? Shady RVs? What's happening here?  
_

Stepping out of the sedan, Max remarked, "if you told me three years ago that we'd be paying off a drug dealer so you could replenish your weed stash, I would've checked your temperature."

Chloe brisked ahead, waving a hand in the air dismissively. Without turning around, she answered, "You know I'm always cool, Max. Now come on, let's get this over with."

Rushing to catch up, Max wondered aloud, "so what sort of guy _is_ this Frank person?"

Chloe slowed her steps, looking up at the sky as she exhaled a breath. "We got some history--Not like that, doofus," she quickly interjected after seeing Max twist her face. "God, no. Nah, Frank is a bit brash, but he's alright. Gruff exterior, heart of gold, etc etc."

"Don't go too light on the details," Max quipped back sarcastically.

Chloe gave Max a playful shove with her elbow, and rapped loudly on the door to Frank's RV. For a moment there was silence. Chloe tapped her foot impatiently, raising her hand again. Before she had a chance, the door opened, and Frank peered out into the sunlight. Given how he was squinting, Max figured there wasn't much natural illumination inside.

"Aah, Price, you're finally back in town. Was starting to get worried there, for a moment. You know, skipping town. Not paying me back. But here you are. And you'd better not be soft on cash."

"Be cool, Frank. Yes, I've got your damned money." Chloe reached into her jacket's inner pocket, withdrawing a thick envelope. Frank snatched it away without hesitation, opening it quickly and rifled through the contents.

"Weeeell well, well, looks like Christmas came early this year, because this right here is a god-damned miracle," he half-praised, half-sneered, waving the envelope back and forth in the air. "I'm not gonna ask how you got this, Chloe. _Don't_ wanna know. Now. We done here?"

As if noticing Max for the first time, Frank's eyes left Chloe and gave the other girl a full look-over. Max had to suppress a shiver.

"So... what hell is _this?_ Rachel ran away, and you found some Seattle bimbo to dress up like her? I ain't gonna give you shit for your preferences or whatever, but this is just _weird_."

"Watch yourself, _Frank_." Chloe spat back. "This is Max Caulfield, she's from here. Known her for the better part of my life."

Frank scoffed. "Right. Well, it's easy to see what void you're trying to fill, Price. Just don't drag me into it."

_What is he talking about? This guy knew Rachel?_

Max didn't get a chance to continue her thought before Chloe replied. "Dude, just be chill. Max needed a change of clothes, and she's Rachel's size."

Frank squinted his eyes at Max, giving her another hard look. "If you say so. She kinda creeps me out."

"You're not so easy on the eyes either, pall," Max found herself saying.

Frank simply laughed in response, clapping his hands together. "She talks! Well, Chloe, I'm happy for you. Really. Now. If there's nothing else...?"

"Frank, you know I want to re-up. Come on, I have the money. And I don't want that shit you sold me last time."

"You'll _buy_ what I _have_ , girlie," Frank threatened. "And, yeah. Of course."

Without further words they exchanged more bills, and Frank disappeared back into his home, closing the door behind him.

"Well that was different," Max observed. "And slightly creepy."

"Yeah, as I said, he's not a charmer. But he's alright."

"I'll have to take your word for it," Max consented, allowing some sarcasm to seep into her voice.

Max took a small turn around, taking in her surroundings. A few seagulls flocked about in the air, crying their distinctive squawks over the beach. It was good to just stand there, and breathe in the sea. Seattle was a port city, but it didn't have many _beaches_. A minor difference, but in that moment, Max realized just how much she had missed it. Listlessly, Max strolled to the waves to get a better view. The sun still hung high in the sky; it was only mid-afternoon. They still had a whole day to kill. Tomorrow would no doubt be a taxing endeavor. She didn't relish having to tell Mr. Amber about his daughter's death. For both her and Chloe, the death of a family member was an all-to-real reality she'd never wish on anyone.

"Ready to bounce, mad-Max?"

Max soaked in one more wistful look at the bay. It was truly peaceful here. So different from the noise and bustle of the big city. Far in the distance, the lighthouse caught her attention. The building had always stood vigil over the quaint little town, and had been a place Max and Chloe had always begged their parents to take them. It was somehow reassuring to see it still there, looking exactly the same. Like no time had passed at all. Max turned around, bumping her head into Chloe's chest in response. They stood there for a moment, Chloe hesitantly leaning in, lightly wrapping her arms around Max's waist.

"Seriously though, Max. This girl's gotta get baked," she whispered.

"Okay, okay. I guess I've gotten my fill of nostalgia for one day."

* * *

A wonderful evening of binge watching Netflix was rudely interrupted when David arrived home from work. Max found herself woefully unprepared for the encounter, being nearly high herself from all the second hand smoke. With both parents gone, Chloe had practically hot boxed her room.

But Chloe's illegal contraband didn't seem to worry David much. Instead, the bulk of his arrogant attitude was focused towards the stranger who had taken up residence in his house. Without any consultation on his part. Furthermore, a stranger that hadn't been there this morning. David, Max surmised, did not like being tricked.

"David, you seriously need to calm the hell down. You already talked to Joyce, right? She calls the shots here, okay?"

David paced again, back and forth throughout the living room. Chloe stood with a confrontational poise, while Max hung back behind the dining table, finding the fire place an object of sudden interest.

"Her parents are _looking_ for her, Chloe," David countered, throwing a hand up into the air. "We can just take her in, like some stray cat!"

"The fuck? David. This is Max. You've seen her fucking face in pictures around the house! She's not some flea ridden feral we picked up off the street. Jesus, for once in your miserable life, can you just _not_ be a dick about something?"

Surprisingly, Chloe's plea gave David pause.

"This isn't so simple, Chloe," he explained, finally lowering voice. Unless Max's ears fooled her, David's tone even contained a hint of exasperation. "I don't want this family to get wrapped up in a custody dispute!"

"Tough," Chloe said while crossing her arms. "Because Max is _staying_. She's a member of this family now, like it or not. And there's no fucking way in hell she's going back home. David, they're _hurting_ her. Do you even get that?"

David stopped his pacing, and exhaled slowly, rubbing a hand on his face. "I understand Max had made an accusation. And, yes, it's good she's met with the police. But Chloe, this isn't our job! This is a job for child protective services."

"I agree! But they interviewed with Max, and said it was okay to let her stay here."

Chloe's assertion nagged in the back of Max's head.

_It's weird. Everything at the station went so smooth, but... what Chloe just claimed never actually happened. Not that I'm going to correct h er right now, or anything. But I never met with anyone from CPS. Is that weird? Officer Berry made it sound like that was something that needed to happen. But by the time we were doing the paperwork, it was no big deal. I don't want to jinx it by saying anything, but I guess it left me with a bad feeling._

"I just wish Joyce would've included me on this decision," David complained, more to the empty air, than his step-daughter.

"Well, maybe there's a reason she didn't," Chloe barked back. David gave a pained expression at her retort--it was obvious Chloe had hit a nerve.

"Come on, Max. You don't need any more of this bullshit." Without waiting for any permission from David, Chloe grabbed Max's hand, and pulled her away, ascending the stairs to her--their--room.

It was something Chloe brought up casually on their way home. Apparently she and Joyce had discussed living arrangements, and for the time being Max was just going to bunk with Chloe. Secretly, Max was overjoyed at this, though she tried not to make her reaction _too_ obvious. Chloe herself looked as if it was an offhand thing, but Max swore she heard a hint of nervousness in her friend's voice as she proposed the idea.

The whole situation felt a little unreal. Like she was going to wake up any second now, finding herself back in her room. With Calvin leaning down with that noose in hand, with that solemn look. Tying that noose around her neck. That the previous few days had been a flight of imagination. A self-indulged, time compressed fantasy her brain, or power, afforded her before confronting death.

As Max found herself pulled into Chloe's room once again, she stopped slowly, giving herself a hug, suddenly feeling uncertain about her own sense of reality. Chloe didn't seem to notice her friend's apprehension, instead focused on toking up again. The past few minutes had been quite stressful, after all.

"Chloe?" Max asked. "What happens after we give the files to Mr. Amber?"

"Hmm? What do you mean? We sit back, watch the fireworks. Right?"

"I guess? I just... I haven't thought through it all yet. We've been so focused on just surviving each day..."

"Hey, come on," Chloe ordered, dragging Max towards the bed, pushing her lightly onto the mattress. She quickly flopped down beside her, and the pair found themselves staring up at the ceiling. "Listen, Max, I get it. Everything has changed, in a few days. Just," Chloe actually took a moment to gulp, in an uncharacteristic moment of what _sounded_ like emotional vulnerability. "Promise you'll stick around, yeah?"

Max shifted to her side, looking at Chloe's face, which was pointed stringently at the ceiling. "I'm not going anywhere, Chloe," she said. With perhaps a little too much earnestness in her voice.

Chloe smiled, eyes still fixed upward. "You know, we haven't talked much about, well, _it_. Since that night."

Max returned to her original position, though this time a touch closer to Chloe. "I know. It's... hard, Chloe. I avoid thinking about it."

"They say that sort of shit drives you crazy, over time."

"I know," Max replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

_She has a point. Those... hallucinations? Flashbacks? Whatever they are. They're real. Are they here to stay? Will Calvin haunt me, for the rest of my life?_

"Max." This time Chloe was the one to turn on her side, and give her friend an intense stare.

"I see him, sometimes," Max admitted. "I get these... I don't know. Episodes?" Max grew suddenly unsure of herself, intensely uncomfortable at admitting her condition aloud. "I just... zone out. And I'm back there, Chloe. With... _him_. And, and..."

Chloe didn't let Max finish. Without words she pulled Max in, wrapping her arms around in a secure, but not tight, embrace. A momentary panic flooded through, and she involuntarily tensed, but it was quickly replaced by an euphoric sense of calm. Max took a slow, deep breath, and found herself scooching inward, closing the gap between them.

"Chloe... I... I'm so fucked up."

Chloe didn't reply. She just tightened her grip, nuzzling her head over Max's.

 _What is this? I know beyond any doubt that Chloe and I are connected, but does she really see me... that way? Do I_ want _her to see me that way? I don't even know if I can even answer that question. Then there's what Frank said this afternoon. What did he mean by that? "Filling a void?"_

Her mind still pressed with doubts, Max allowed Chloe to nestle themselves together, taking comfort in the warmth from her friend. Whatever this was, and whatever it meant, was a problem for another day. Right now, the desire to just sink into the moment overpowered all other thoughts and worries. It was on these airs Max finally drifted off to sleep.

* * *

As Max expected, the Amber household was an impressive construction, tastefully furnished, complete with clean hardwood floors, expensive rugs, and comfy looking recliners. A soft melody drafted through the air as Chloe tried to make small talk with Mrs. Amber. James was apparently in his study, but would be available to them any minute.

"It's... good to see you, Mrs. Amber."

Mrs. Amber narrowed her expression, folding her arms.

_Wow. Standoffish, much?_

"This had better be important, Chloe," she said carefully. "My husband is a busy man."

"Does your step-daughter count as being important?" Chloe accused. "Or have you already forgotten about her?"

For a brief moment Max could swear she saw a hurt expression glance Mrs. Amber's face. She quickly regained her composure. "Rachel has made it _abundantly_ clear she wants nothing to do with us, or, for that matter, _you_."

Max could tell Chloe was about to explode--her body language telegraphed the inevitability loud and clear. Swiftly, she grabbed Chloe's arm, putting another hand on her shoulder.

"Chloe, we're here for a reason, right?" Max interrupted.

This seemed to cool Chloe down a bit, and she gave Max a quick nod, before staring at the floor.

"I'm sorry, young lady, but we haven't been introduced. Your name is...?"

"Max. Max Caulfield." Max extended her hand for a shake, which Mrs. Amber took in response, holding for a slight minute.

"I take it you're a friend of Chloe's? Did you also know Rachel?"

"Yes, and no. I grew up around here. Practically lived at Chloe's house when I was a kid. But my family moved away to Seattle a while back. Chloe and I recently reconnected." Max suddenly realized she was starting to ramble. The situation felt so weird, so awkward. Mrs. Amber was making no efforts to hide her hostility towards Chloe. Chloe had mentioned she wasn't on the best of terms with the Ambers, but hadn't elaborated. Had things really gotten so bad between them? What exactly happened?

Max breathed a sigh of relief as she heard footsteps coming down the nearby stairs. Mrs. Amber stepped aside, allowing her husband to fill the gap. He gave both Max and Chloe a hard look. His eyes finally settled on the folder in Chloe's hands.

"Hello, Ms. Price."

"H-hi, Mr. Amber," Chloe responded. For a moment Max saw some cracks in Chloe's confidence. As if, all of a sudden, that punk veneer was stripped away, leaving nothing but an emotionally scarred teenager. The moment passed as soon as it started. Chloe hardened her expression, and looked Mr. Amber right in the eyes before continuing.

"We found Rachel."

The Ambers exchanged a glance, clearly unsure of Chloe's honesty or intentions.

"And why, Chloe," Mr. Amber asked, "would we believe you?"

"You don't have to believe me," Chloe explained as she shoved the file towards Mr. Amber. "Believe Eric Landhauser."

In a surprisingly swift move, Mr. Amber snatched the file from Chloe's hands, opening the cover to look at the first page. The girls decided it would be best to keep the original order. Mr. Amber opened and closed his mouth several times, no doubt wondering why he was being shown this, to seeing his daughter's name, along with the mysterious Mr. Jefferson's, whose name he no doubt at least knew of. He began to pace the room, flipping to the next page, before settling into a recliner opposite to the sofa in the living area. Both Max and Chloe took this as their cue to take seats themselves. It was an odd, morbid experience, watching the hardened man's expression move from incredulity, shock, and finally, as he reached the back of the folder, to pain. For a long minute, he closed his eyes, slowly closing the folder.

Max and Chloe exchanged glances, wondering if they should say something. Offer condolences? Obviously Mr. Amber and Chloe had their differences, but surely they could find common ground in their love for Rachel, and the hurt in her loss? They both snapped to attention when James began to talk.

"Where did you find this, Chloe?"

Max decided it was _her_ turn to speak up. After all, if things didn't go well, she could always rewind. She put a hand on Chloe's leg, and said "We found it in Eric Landhauser's house. We were exploring around during a BBQ he hosted. As invited guests."

"That name, it _is_ vaguely familiar..."

"He's a prosecutor for the city of Seattle," Max explained. "A very powerful one."

Mr. Amber simply closed his eyes again, clutching the folder. "And I have your word, your _oaths_ , that this is not fabricated?"

"You can find the proof you need by subpoenaing the Maddross Hotel in Seattle. That's where Rachel was... was murdered. Their computer records for that day are scrubbed, but their physical files weren't." ****

"And you know this how?"

"Please, Mr. Amber. I know this is... a lot to take in. But the man who actually killed your daughter? Calvin Young? He's my uncle. And his crimes don't stop with your daughter. Officer Berry's already helped me issued a DVPO against him. Please. We... we need your help. If we don't stop him, he'll continue to hurt others."

Another silence filled the room. Max could feel her heart thump, again and again, as she tightened her grip around Chloe's leg. This was it... make or break. Maybe the future would be okay for _Max_ if Mr. Amber didn't buy their story. But how would Chloe respond? What would she do, how would she react, if James blew them off? Would she high tail it back up to Seattle, determined to exact swift justice of her own making?

"Thank you, both of you. For bringing this to me. I... I need some time. Alone. But please. Stay in town. I'll be in touch soon. We might need further testimony."

Max had to bite her tongue from whooping an incredibly inappropriate " _YES!"_ Instead she gave a purposeful nod, motioning for Chloe to do the same.

"So you'll get this fucker, right?" Chloe asked--almost _threatened_. Realizing the harsh tone of her question, she corrected, "Please, Mr. Amber... he... he can't get away with this."

"I will do everything in my power to see justice done, Chloe. But not for you. For my daughter."

"Of course," Chloe replied, somewhat sullenly. Max took that as their cue to leave. She stood, tapping on Chloe's shoulder to rise with her. Mrs. Amber, who had remained in the room but stayed silent the whole time, walked them to the entry way to show them out.

As they exited the household, and entered the warm midday breeze, Max gazed upwards, feeling suddenly _free_. Like a massive, incredible weight had just been lifted from her shoulders. Chloe still looked distraught, but gave her a weak smile as they moved towards the car.

_We actually did it. We faced our crucible, and came out the other side. Chloe and I... we can finally move on, and be free of this. All of this. No more Eric, no more Calvin. No more Mom. They're the past now. I don't think we'll be hearing from any of them, ever again._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ya'll ready for LiS2? **CAN'T. WAIT.** Tomorrow is so far away...


	13. Old Favors

"What?" Chloe asked, although her tone communicated more statement than question. Max cursed under her breath--she had been stealing glances at Chloe's face for the past a few minutes during their drive back from the Ambers. Chloe hadn't said a word since leaving. While Max found herself secretly relieved, even a little happy, that their part in finding Rachel justice was concluded, she also sensed a tension that her friend wasn't of the same mindset. They were about half way home, now, too, and Chloe had done nothing but focus on the road ahead.

"N-nothing," Max replied, looking off, out of her window.

"Max, chill. I'm fine. Just... I don't like thinking about it."

Max just nodded in response, deciding to give her friend some time to mull over her emotions. Rummaging around in her backpack, she drew our her journal, and started a new entry. It was long overdue.

"So you really still do write that shit, huh?"

"Jeez, Chloe. Tell me what you really think," Max replied as she rolled her eyes.

"It's very you, though. Retro vibe thing going on, back there in Seattle."

Max smiled and shook her head, but quickly got back to task.

The remainder of the trip seemed fly back, after that. Memories of the past few days swirled in Max's head as she gave them body on her page.

_I'd better hope nobody finds this journal, and reads it. Then I really_ could _get committed..._

Her last entry hadn't actually been since Victoria had snatched it away, back at school. Max shuddered involuntarily, trying to get past the memory. The room's laughter, and moreover, the focused _attention,_ still gave Max shivers.

_None of that matters now. All those assholes are hours away. I'll never have to see them again._

Then the party at Eric's house happened, followed quickly by both their respective meltdowns in Chloe's motel room. Max stopped writing for a moment, confronted with how exactly to relate her thoughts on that experience. It had the good-bad tug to it, but upon further reflection Max decided more _good_ than _bad_. It had been excruciatingly painful to come clean about everything, but Chloe seemed to accept her for who she was, wounds and all. And she didn't mind the sleeping precedent it had seemed to set. Max's thoughts drifted to last night, where Chloe had curled around her, as if it was perfectly normal.

_I mean, that's not really the sort of thing "friends" do, right? At least, not as this age. We're not little kids anymore. Maybe Chloe just doesn't want to grow up? Or maybe... there's something more here? At least, I feel like there is. What Chloe and I have... it's more than friendship. But does she feel the same way?  
_

Max wasn't even halfway done recording the recent events by the time Chloe interrupted.

"Shit," she muttered, bringing the car down to a slow roll. The Price residence was just down the street, and a cop car was parked in the driveway.

Max put a hand on Chloe's arm, trying to get her attention. "Chloe, it'll be fine. Let's just go see what they want. It might be nothing."

"I'm not sure sure, Max. You good to bust out superpowers?"

"Moment's notice, capt'n," Max smiled.

Chloe shut the car down, slowing removing the keys from the ignition. "Fuck," she groaned as they walked up to the porch. "Cops at the house. Again. Not on my list of favorite memories."

"You and me both, Chloe," Max assured as they walked both reached the front door. Chloe sighed, closed her eyes, and sauntered her way inside. Max followed quickly. Immediately, she make out the sound of voices from the living room. She could recognize both Joyce and Officer Berry's voice.

"Chloe?" Joyce called out. "You and Max are back?"

"Yeah, Mom," Chloe grumbled, walking down the hallway and turning to face her mother and their guest.

"Chloe. Good to see you, as always," Officer Berry stated with a small nod. His hands were wrapped around a steaming cup of coffee.

Max walked into the room, around Chloe, and took a seat at the table, between Berry and Joyce.

"Hello, Officer Berry," Max greeted. Chloe grunted a little at Max's easy-going manner.

_Come on, Chloe. I know you don't like this, but Berry has done nothing so far but to help._

"Everything going okay with the paperwork?" Max asked.

"Hah," Berry laughed once, "Actually, Max, that's sort of why I'm here. Yes--and, I truly _am_ sorry about this--but we really need a few more signatures."

"Can't she just do that now?" Chloe stepped closer, leaning in between Berry and Max and placed both hands on the table.

Berry released the coffee, twisted slightly in the chair, bringing an arm over the back, to face Chloe directly. Despite Chloe's attitude, Berry remained calm and relaxed.

"Some, Chloe, need to be signed at the station," he explained. "with a notary present. Listen, it'll be quick, I promise. You girls can get back to... well, whatever it is the younger generation does these days. Before you know it, I promise."

Chloe pouted for a moment, then quickly announced "I'm coming with this time."

Berry, who had gone for another sip, nearly spat out some of his coffee at Chloe's statement. Recovering, he smiled, and said "Of course. Not interested in another long argument, this day's been hard enough already."

Chloe nodded brisquly, and then stomped back towards the front door, holding it open. "Well? Let's get this over with?"

"Chloe," Joyce called from the kitchen, "where are your manners? Berry hasn't even finished his coffee."

"It's quite alright, Joyce," Berry said as he rose from the table. "This coffee _is_ excellent, but the sooner we get this done the better."

Max took that as her cue to stand as well, and wandered over to where Chloe stood, motioning them both to get a move on.

_Poor Chloe. She's just so eager to get this all over with. I totally get it. We are gonna have to work on curbing that brashness though..._

* * *

Max quickly concluded that the back of a squad car was nearly as comfortable as its front. Berry had recommended they both take the back, and which was just fine with both Max and Chloe.

"Honestly, I thought a little more time would pass before being hauled around in one these things again," Chloe mused.

"So you and Rachel really did loot and plunder Arcadia Bay?"

Chloe scoffed, leaning forward with both elbows on her knees, her fingers interlocked with each other.

"Like you wouldn't believe." Max kept her attention focused on Chloe, worried for her friend. It was obvious she had been repressing her own grief, in order to deal with Max's situation. The thought brought with it both a guilty and gratifying reaction.

"I dunno, Max. Like, part of it just doesn't feel real. Or something. Like she'll just call me up any minute, or another postcard will arrive in the mail."

"Chloe..." Max trailed off, but put a hand on her friend's shoulder. Up front, Berry seemed intently focused on driving. He actually had the window rolled up, giving them some privacy.

_As good as Officer Berry has been, I won't be sad if this is our last trip to the station.  
_

They sat in silence for some time, Chloe clearly trying to keep it together, and Max just trying to come to grips with her new life. There was so much to do, but, at the very least, plenty of time in which to do it. Max began making a mental list of errands. Clothing, bathroom essentials, maybe even looking into how to enroll at the local high school. But there was no rush of urgency.

_Speaking of time, I feel like this trip has lasted way too long. It's only like fifteen minutes to the station. But we're... wait, what? We're on a highway._

Max nudged Chloe with her elbow. Her companion had been staring at the cruiser's floor in a hunched position, lost in thought. She looked at Max expectantly. Max simply motioned towards the windows.

"Wait, what is... Max, this isn't the way to the police station."

"Road closure, maybe?"

"No way Max. We're on one of the highways out of town." Chloe glanced at the back of Officer Berry's head. "Hey, dickhead!" she shouted.

Berry didn't respond at all. He just kept driving, totally ignoring the increasing intensity of Chloe's insults.

"Chloe, calm down," Max interrupted, trying to ease her friend's temper. Berry obviously was not listening. "Something's not right, Chloe."

"I knew it was weird when he let me ride along," Chloe said between gritted teeth.

"Huh?"

"Max, I'm getting very, very bad vibes. Can't you use your power? Get of out of here?"

"Not so simple, Chloe. If I used it right now I'd stand a decent chance of becoming roadkill. It's not as if we really tested how it works with forward momentum. What about your phone?" At Chloe's insistence, Max had disposed of her old phone yesterday. She thought Chloe was being a bit silly--that there's no way Calvin could get permission to do that _now_. But Max had given into Chloe's paranoia, and they had _planned_ to replace it today, before their afternoon took this sudden detour.

Chloe placed hands over her body, showing the phone was nowhere on her person. "Shit, it's in my jacket. Which... I took off right after getting home. Was so pissed about this whole paper work thing, I fucking forgot about it. Fuck. Fuck. God, so, what? We're screwed?"

"Not even. Let's just see where this takes us. Once we're stopped, and out of the car, I'll be able to use my rewind safely. Plus, I want to see where this goes. If there's a threat out there, I'd rather know what we're up against."

"And you got a picture ready?" Chloe had insisted on Max taking photos at regular intervals, and always storing them on her person. Max did so, albeit a tad begrudgingly. The more she thought about that power the less she liked it. She hadn't completely explained her thoughts on the issue to Chloe, but she _had_ secretly sworn to only use it again if things got truly fucked up. Like they had been, that first time.

Berry engaged his signal blinker, and slowed the car, turning the vehicle onto a narrow road, sliced between the thick woods that surrounded the highway on all sides.

_Would it be safe enough to use it, now? Would it do any good? Would Berry just turn around and leave? What would happen to Chloe? I... I want to see where this leads. Then we can decide what to do._

And so they sat, nervously, taking in their surroundings as the car slowly made its way down the curvy, and bumpy, road. After a few more minutes, they entered a clearing. A tattered "No Trespassing" sign did nothing to dissuade Max's increasing sense of foreboding.

A large, old barn, with both gates wide open, stood in the center of the open meadow. The building was severely dilapidated; it had clearly seen better days. Weather had apparently taken its toll over many years, and given the lack of repairs, she had to conclude the place was abandoned. A cold pit of worry started to form in Max's stomach. This felt wrong. Like something out of one of those slasher flicks Chloe would make her watch.

Another vehicle caught Max's eye. It was parked just outside the barn, but its driver was nowhere in sight.

Berry kept the car rolling and steered them into the building. The interior was smaller than Max had envisioned. Along with all the other rusted out equipment, Berry's squad car barely fit. Their captor brought his vehicle to a complete stop, pulling up the emergency break. Then, Berry did nothing. He just gripped the steering wheel, looking off into space. For a moment Max thought he was going to turn around, with a smile, and explain everything. Like, maybe this was some joke, or welcoming prank.

Nothing of the sort happened. Instead, Berry opened his door, arcing his back a bit after standing up from the drive. Without giving Max or Chloe so much as a single look, he nodded at a figure standing underneath some platforms, a few steps away from the car. The mystery man's face was hidden in shadow. Without saying any words, Berry threw his keys at the man who snatched them out of the air. Berry then turned, and walked towards the entrance. He completely ignored Max and Chloe as he passed their window. Max could feel her heart racing now--something was definitely wrong. Who was this creepy man? Was that his car outside? Would her power even be helpful, if she chose to use it? Or would she just be teleporting herself into a trap? Would she be able to escape by rewinding and running? If so, what then? She'd be all alone, in the woods, without a phone.

Max and Chloe stared out the back window as they watched Berry enter the sunlight outside.

"Dude, Max, the creep factor here has gone well over nine thousand. Who the hell is that fucker?" She asked, motioning at the tall figure, silhouetted in darkness.

"I know, I know. Just, let's let this play out a while longer. With any luck, whoever it is, will let us out of the car. Then we can bust out our mad skills."

"I don't think that fucker's a notary, Max..."

"Yeah," Max gulped. "I think we're past that. Chloe? On my ride with Berry yesterday, he spoke to someone on the phone named Mr. Prescott." Chloe choked a little at hearing the name. "You know him?"

"Of him, I guess," Chloe answered. "The way people talk, the man's a succubus on the whole town, leeching it dry, or something. I dunno. His son is an asshole, so I'd believe it."

Before either of them could say another word, the swinging doors started to shut. Max gulped as the two doors closed, sealing them in the barn. Shortly afterwards they heard an engine start from outside, and a car pull away. Officer Berry had left them. Trying to remain calm, Max took a hard look at the man standing in the shadows, who himself was staring back at the car.

_Just, please, don't be him. Not Calvin._

Max's heart stopped when the figure stepped forward, allowing light from between the rotted out roofing to show his face. A small whimper escaped Max's lips, as she slid down the seat, hiding herself from view. Chloe gave her a confused, but worried look.

"Max? Is that... shit, you're serious? That's _Calvin_?"

Max had sunk to the foot area of the seat, hugging her legs close to her body. She couldn't stop her mind from racing.

_Shit, shit, shit. Oh god, it's gonna happen again. I have to do something! But what? If I rewind now, then I'll be in here, alone, with_ him _. I guess I could run for it? The door will still be open. I could, just, keep using my rewind until I'm safe? But what about Chloe? I'll have ditched her! Berry would notice quickly. He might've kept his eyes facing forward, but I know he was checking up on us through his rear view mirror. God, why would Calvin even care about Chloe? She_ has _to be here on Calvin's orders. But he doesn't know we both figured out his secret! Does he?  
_

It was possible, Max had to admit. Eric could've gone through his study, and noticed something amiss. And surely the sledgehammer they left outside the door would've raised an eyebrow. If Calvin and Eric drew the correct conclusions, what would that mean? Last time, Calvin gloated about how he "took care" of Chloe. It seemed reasonable to assume they would take a similar course of action...

_Okay, stay calm. I can rewind now, but I'll wind up right in front of him._

Max steeled herself, and took a hard look around the barn. Calvin hadn't moved much yet, apparently amused by the sight of them trapped in the car. Suddenly, the kernel of an idea began to grow in Max's head. It was crazy... but it might give them a clean break.

_Alright. But I need Chloe's help to do this. Come on, Calvin. Let us out..._

Chloe played with her door, apparently hoping beyond hope Berry hadn't locked it. No such luck was to be found. Both girls jumped when Calvin rapped his flashlight against Max's window. He stood, hunched over, leering at them. Seeing that he had their attention, Calvin smiled, and used a pair of keys to unlock the door, opening it wide.

"Maxine. And, Chloe, I take it?"

"Fuck off, pig," Chloe spat back.

"Oh, ho ho," Calvin laughed, stepping back so the girls could climb out of the vehicle. "Your friend here has quite the mouth on her, Max. Might have to do something about that."

"You can't touch us, Calvin," Max said, trying her hardest to keep her voice steady. "We've already filed a restraining order against you. And pretty soon Joyce will be my legal guardian."

Calvin simply smiled, shaking his head softly. "You know, it's funny, how connections seem to make the world spin? How a friendship forged years ago, can have such an impact on someone's life now, who didn't even exist then?" Calvin sighed when both Max and Chloe replied with confused looks. Calvin continued to shake his head.

"I'll make it simple then. Maxine, Berry did no such thing. Officer Berry, I am sure, is a good man. But we all have our betters to answer to. His is Mr. Prescott. Who happens to be one of Mr. Landhauser's fraternity brothers. Never been big on the whole _good 'ol boy_ thing myself, but I'll be damned if it doesn't prove useful sometimes."

Eager to see what, exactly, Calvin knew, she decided to press the offensive. "Why, exactly, are we here, Calvin?"

Calvin frowned, giving Max a hard, long look.

"Don't be coy, Maxine. I'm well aware of your antics at Mr. Landhauser's house this week. And I know your friend here was in Seattle looking for Rachel Amber. I'm afraid this puts us in a bit of a bind."

"Fuck you! We've already handed over proof that you did it, and not to some hack tool!" Chloe spat, taking a step forward.

Calvin gave Chloe a dark expression, but remained where he was. Without further words he reached for his cell phone, and tapped a button on its screen.

"Hi, yeah? Yes. Yeah I've got them here. Yeah. Everything. Mmhmm. I... really?" Calvin brought his free hand to his forehead, rubbing it intensely. Max and Chloe shared a look, wondering if this could be their chance...

"The punk, sure. Whatever. But Eric, I swear, I can handle Max. Nothing will go wr--Of course. Yes. I understand."

Calvin gave the screen a solemn look before hanging up the call.

_Shit... that did not sound good._

"And you're the one who's been hurting Max?" Chloe accused. Calvin didn't raise his head--he just continued looking at the screen. Emboldened, Chloe took another step forward, closing the distance between them.

"Chloe..." Max found herself saying.

"Max over here might just want to move on, but my ass isn't so forgiving. You're going to _pay_ for what you did you son-of-a-"

Somehow, the shot seemed _louder_ in the open barn than it did in her room. Max's stomach turned as she watched Chloe lurch backward, a small hole in her head. Calvin stood impassively, gun in hand, like nothing had just happened. Chloe's body hit the floor with a dull _thump_ , and Max felt a wave a pure nausea flow over her.

"Maxine," Calvin said. "Finally, some alone time. Listen, come here--"

Max squeezed her eyes shut, letting uncontrollable tears roll down her cheeks as the roar and whirl of her power filled her senses. She knew she needed to time this right. They wouldn't have many chances at this, before her power ran out. She managed to drop the rewind just as Chloe and Max were stepping out of the car.

"Maxine. And, Chloe, I take it?" Calvin said once again.

Max wasted no time. She turned to Chloe, giving her a _look_. Max shook her head, and nodded towards the first of the platforms. Chloe nodded in return. Calvin laughed, taking a few steps towards them as both girls bolted towards the terraced scaffolding. In a smooth, swift motion, Chloe hoisted Max up.

"Sure hope you got a plan, Mad-Max," she stated as she stepped back. Max scrambled back to her feet, now steady on the first platform.

Calvin laughed again, looking up at his niece. "You do know there's no way out, that way? Come on, don't make this harder than it needs to be. If I have to come get you, Maxine, you _will_ regret it."

When Max didn't budge, and instead started looking for a way up to the next platform, Calvin raised his sidearm. "Okay then, the hard way. You have three seconds to come down, or your little girlfriend here gets a bullet in the stomach. I hear that's an especially bad way to go."

_Fucker! Like I'm going to let that happen._

Max rewound again, just to the point when Chloe had left the vehicle. This time, Calvin immediately noticed the effects of Max's power.

Chloe, on the other hand, had gotten somewhat used to her friend vanishing at a moment's notice. Calmly, she threw both hands behind her head, looking up at the ceiling, a calm grin forming on her face. Her eyes briefly caught Max's, who brought her fingers up to her lips in a _"sssh"_ motion.

"Dude," Chloe laughed. "You're so fucked."

"I... okay," Calvin said, obviously ill at ease by the strange situation. "you have three seconds to explain what's going on here. What happened to Maxine?"

_Just stall, Chloe. I need a little more time..._

Max's eyes settled on her target. She had noticed it when first entering the barn, after seeing the shadowed figure that turned out to be Calvin. Just above him, on the second tier of platforms, was a crusty, but heavy, engine.

_Am I really going to do this? I've never... I never wanted to, not anything like this... but if I don't he's going to_ kill _Chloe. Over, and over again. I can't let that happen. I have to end this hell, once and for all. We tried doing things the "right" way, and now we're in a fucking horror movie. Screw that. I guess there's the photo... but Calvin's_  in town!  _What if I don't change things correctly? What if he finds, and kills, my other self? Does she even_  have _rewind powers?_

Max grabbed a strap, and rolled the engine towards her, causing it to career off the side and land onto the first platform with a loud _thud_. This immediately caught Calvin's attention.

"What the... Maxine, how the hell did you..."

Max acted quickly. Within seconds she scrambled to the second tier, carefully taking a few steps to provide room for the engine's original position. She rewound again, restoring the piece of equipment's original state.

_Almost there. Just a little more..._

A drop of blood splattered on to the old wood by her feet. Max rubbed her nose, and found more smeared across her finger.

_Shit. Not good. But I'm so close! Just, please... don't give out on me now!_

Max started to push the engine, which was thankfully on wheels, into position.

"Maxine, what the hell? Come down from there, this instant!" Calvin ordered.

Max could hear Chloe laughing below as she slowly moved the engine, inch by inch.

"Dude," Chloe remarked. "I think I see where this is going, and, uh, yeah. Sucks to be you, fuck-head."

The engine, at last, was in place. Max closed her eyes, and reached one more time for her power. The pain was excruciating at this point, and she felt more blood begin to drip from her nose. But she kept going, forcing time back to just after Officer Berry drove off. She stifled a small gasp when she let go, stumbling slightly from the pounding headache. The scene was restored to before Berry had even arrived, though he was undoubtedly only moments away. Max could only hope he didn't notice her absence from the back seat. Quietly, Max took stock of her surroundings.

_Yes! He's right there! I did it! But, god, this headache, I don't think I can rewind anymore. I only get one shot at this... This is it. If I do this, I'll be... a killer. I know I don't have a choice--Calvin's cornered us. He's left us no other options. And if this works like I think it will, it'll look like an accident. But still... I never wanted...  
_

Max sighed, and for a moment, everything became calm. The birds outside seemed to stop chirping, and the breeze that had been filtering its way between the barn's cracked boarding gave way to an eerie stillness. Max pushed the engine.

* * *

Max couldn't bring herself to look. Even though less than a minute had passed, the seconds ticked away at a glacial pace as she awaited Berry and Chloe's arrival. Despite the shock of what she had done, Max quickly jumped down, and hid herself near the barn's entrance. The next few moments were going to be crucial to both her and Chloe's future.

Calvin's body remained in the periphery of her vision. She had glanced only just enough to understand that the plan worked. Calvin was a threat no longer.

_I... I just_ killed _someone. He... he deserved it... but... I didn't want it to end like this. I wanted to see him behind bars, not under a fucking piece of farm equipment! I'd better play my hand right when Officer Berry and Chloe get here.  
_

Finally, Max heard a car approach, and held her breath as it slowly drifted through the barn's entrance. As it passed, Max made eye contact with Chloe, who was frantically looking around. Chloe's expression morphed from panic to relief in a flash, and she sat back in her seat, seeming much more at ease. Berry himself appeared unconcerned. He must not have noticed her absence yet.

As before, Berry stopped the car, and remained in his seat for a moment, before stepping out of the vehicle. That was when he noticed what was still visible of Calvin's body.

"Jesus _christ_ ," he muttered, stepping forward, and putting a hand on his holster.

Max bit her lip, and approached Berry from behind. "It's over, Officer Berry," she said, in as calm a tone as she could muster. Berry spun around, startled and shocked that Max had somehow gotten out of his car.

"Max! How did... nevermind. Listen, something's gone very wrong here--"

"Agree to disagree, Andy," Max interrupted, using Berry's personal name. "That man over there? That's my uncle. You know, the one you helped me file a restraining order against? Funny that you were taking me right to him."

Berry blanched, taking a step back, and almost tripped over an errant rake. "Max, I, this, this isn't like that. Look, you're right, I was taking you to your uncle. But you have to understand, Max. I had no choice. And everything would've been okay! Your family explained the situation, about your... condition."

"Then why would he invite Chloe, too?"

Berry threw his arms up in the air. "I don't know, Max. I don't ask questions, not when the orders came from... well, where they came. But I swear to you, this was all on the level."

Max suppressed a laugh. "Officer Berry. You were driving two innocent girls to an abandoned farm, far out in the middle of nowhere, to a suspected murderer. Doesn't feel very _level_ to me."

Berry opened and closed his mouth, apparently thinking the better of arguing against her assertion.

"Now, Max," he finally started. "Let's not get carried away here. This is a possible crime scene, and you're a potential witness. But first, you need to tell me how the heck you got out of my car!"

"You _let_ me out, remember?" _This_ was where Max began to form some sweat on her brow. Her whole plan hinged on getting Berry to go along with this.

"Now, that's just not true, Max," Berry began to pace, rubbing his forehead. Despite his disbelief, Max could hear uncertainty in his voice. "I don't know how you did it, but you were definitely already here by the time I parked."

"Right. A teenage girl teleported out of your vehicle, while you were driving, and suddenly appeared at your destination. Very believable, Officer. "

Max gritted her teeth a little, praying Berry would see her point. She was banking on him understanding, right now, how ridiculous the actual events would sound, if he ever had to relate them. Like, for instance, in a police report. She was also relying on her on intuition about Berry's character. That he wasn't as horrible as Eric or Calvin.

"Look, Officer Berry," she continued. "This was obviously an accident. That old engine must've been teetering up there for years, and Calvin was just in the wrong place at the wrong time."

Berry's expression began to change, as if a weight was being lifted from his conscious. "Ye-yes, Yes, that does make sense," he muttered, putting a hand to his chin. "And I _did_ just let you out, right? I guess the shock of seeing... this... screwed with my memory."

"Berry, there's something important you need to know. This man, Calvin, and his associate, Eric Landhauser, have committed multiple murders. He _killed Rachel Amber,_ Berry." Berry's eyes grew wide at Max's accusation, but Max kept talking. "We've already handed over the proof to James Amber this morning."

Mr. Amber's name caught Berry's attention, and looked like he was about to say something, but Max didn't give him time. "Anyone associated with them is going _down_. Like, hard prison time. Berry, I don't know what Mr. Prescott told you, but I don't think either Chloe or I were supposed to leave this barn. And I'm pretty sure you were going to take the fall for it. After all, Joyce saw us leave with you."

Another few long, arduous seconds passed, as Berry stood there, contemplating his options. At hearing Max drop Mr. Prescott's name, he began to grow beads of sweat himself. He looked at Calvin's body, then at Max, and Chloe, who remained patiently in the car. Out of sight from Berry, Max gave a quick "thumbs up" motion to Chloe. Chloe performed a small fist pump in the air.

"God," Berry whispered. "I'm done. Prescott will have my head for this..."

"Andy, Prescott is the least of your problems, now."

Officer Anderson Berry took a long, hard look at Max. "You know," he began. "I think we've all had enough excitement for the day. I'm thinking it would be best if we kept our time here to ourselves?"

"Not so fast, Berry," Max warned. "My mouth is shut--so long as you actually follow through with the CPS paperwork. Joyce is _going_ to be my legal guardian."

Berry considered Max's words. "Of... of course, Max. Though, I might not be able to help you with that personally. Prescott will see me fired for this..." Berry let his sentence linger. With a sigh, he opened the door for Max. "Let's get you two home."

* * *

"That. Was. _Awesome!"_ Chloe exclaimed the moment they both returned to the privacy of her-- _their_ , Max reminded herself--room. The ride back from the barn was a strange, and awkward experience. Chloe was chomping at the bit to learn exactly what happened, but Berry had lowered the window between them, so he would've been able to hear every word. When they got home Max hated having to lie to Joyce about where they had been, but she bit the bullet and told Chloe's mother that everything had gone well, though there might be more trips to the police station in the near future.

"Dude, I was so freaked when you just up and beamed out of Berry's car. Some serious sci-fi shit, girl."

Max understood that Chloe was super-stoked about the way things turned out, but she was having trouble mustering the same enthusiasm. The past few hours had been unbelievably taxing. However much he may have deserved it, she killed a man. Even worse, she had to see Chloe die. Again. Turning to see Chloe, happy, alive, and full of energy, Max let a loose a sob, and threw herself at Chloe, clutching as tightly as she could.

"Whoa, Max, what's up? Isn't it time to celebrate? Ding dong, witch is dead?"

"C-Chloe," Max half stammered, half cried. "I'm so sorry..."

"You have _nothing_ to be sorry for, Max! We won! Honestly, I'm not sure how things could've turned out better. Your ass-hat of an uncle is dead, and it looks like a total accident! Well. Accident enough. You'll have to forgive me if I'm not saddened by the loss of Rachel's murderer."

"I know, I know," Max mumbled, her face still pressed into Chloe's shirt. Max felt Chloe's arms wrap around her in return, making smooth circular motions. "It, it was horrible, Chloe. He s-shot you. _Again_. I _hate_ seeing that Chloe..."

For once, Chloe had nothing to say, so they just stood there for a minute, while Max collected herself.

Finally, Chloe broke the silence. "So, the whole Calvin becoming a human pancake thing, I'm assuming that was you?"

Numbly, Max nodded. "You helped me up there. And then I just... pushed. God, the _sound_ it made, Chloe. When it hit him. I know he deserved it, and I'm not sad that he's gone... but..."

"Hey," Chloe said, gently grabbing Max's face to look at hers. "Look, I'm sorry you had to... go through all that. Honestly, it does sound pretty shitty." She glanced up towards the bed, and made motioning moves in the direction. Max let herself be practically carried as they flopped down. In what had become almost a natural maneuver by now, Max squirmed around, letting Chloe hold her.

 "Chloe?" Max whispered after some time had passed.

"Mmm," she responded, running a hand through Max's hair.

"This... what we are." Max squirmed around to face Chloe directly. "This is something more than, like, friends, right?" Max suddenly realized how fast her heart was thumping. And how dorky her question was. She hadn't meant to bring up this thought so soon, but, after today's events, it just sort of slipped out. There was still the gut-wrenching _doubt_ that maybe Chloe didn't feel the same way. Or the fact that Max could be just some sort of "Rachel stand in" until she could be replaced. Chloe _did_ dress her up like Rachel, after all...

"Uh, duh? Max, we're totally bonded, for life, right? Best friends forever?"

"Yeah..." Max replied, unable to hide the worry from her voice. Softly, almost at a whisper, she continued, "I was wondering, if... we were something... a little more?"

Chloe gave Max a somewhat shocked expression, which gradually shifted to a sly grin. "Jesus, Max. You really have changed. But, let's see how much. I _dare_ you to kiss me. Do it. Kiss me now."

Max felt her heart practically leap through her throat.

_W-what!? What is this? Is she just joking? I... I can't even tell! Or, maybe_  she's _the one too chickenshit to make a move..._

On that thought, Max came to a decision. With a warm, an earnest look into Chloe's eyes, she closed the distance between their lips, holding the back of Chloe's head as she pressed them together. Both their bodies tensed at the contact, but quickly relaxed. As this was her first, real kiss, Max was unsure how long to hold, and slowly pulled her face away.

"W-wow."

_Oh god. Is she gonna freak out? I don't like rewinding on her, but if I just made things awkward between us for all time, I don't think--_

Her thoughts were mercifully silenced when Chloe drew her into another kiss, this one more passionate, more intense than the last. Slowly, Chloe rolled on top, her arms secured around Max's back, peppering her cheek, neck, and chest with more kisses.

"Th-this is okay?" She knew it was a stupid question as it left her mouth.

"Dude, Max. This isn't _okay_. This is, _hella_ okay." She braced herself with both arms, forming a small gap between the pair, Max blushing hard beneath her.

Chloe smiled, drawing a deep breath, and spoke the last words exchanged between them for some time. "Max Caulfield. You know I fucking love you, right?"

* * *

"I GOT INTO BLACKWELL ACADEMY!"

Max penned the first words into her latest journal entry. She couldn't contain her excitement. With constant support from Chloe and Joyce, she had returned her hobby of photography, and built a "completely fucking amazing," as Chloe put it, portfolio together for her application. In return, Blackwell gave her a full scholarship. They would even pay for room and board! Which, of course, she turned down. It was a short trip from Blackwell to her house, and she had an amazing chauffeur.

Max noted how she had finally started thinking of Chloe's house as _her_ house, and smiled.

"Hey, when you're done with that, give me a hand, will ya?"

Chloe was trying to hang some new decorations in her room. Something she picked up at last Sunday's flea market.

"You did _wash_ that, right?" Max asked incredulously.

For a moment Chloe gained a sheepish expression, but it quickly vanished. "Y-Yeah, like, totally. Now come on, you're _literally_ leaving me hanging here."

"Okay, drama queen," Max relented with a smile, rising from her seat to grab the other side of the multi-colored flag Chloe had purchased.

The past year had been a proverbial dream of happiness. To be sure, there had been fallout. Vanessa was distraught at the death of her brother, whose decaying corpse was found weeks later by some teenagers exploring the woods. Apparently, only Eric knew of Calvin's trip to Oregon, and he had kept his mouth shut when Calvin failed to report in. Vanessa, however, demanded an investigation, but the local police seemed happy to file it away as an unfortunate, odd accident. But things got murky when Mr. Amber brought charges against Eric Landhauser, and as the case evolved in discovery, against Mr. Prescott as well. After that, it didn't take long for Max's mother to drop all threats of the custody battle she had been proposing. Especially when Mr. Amber offered his services for Max's defense, pro bono. Vanessa knew she wouldn't be able to afford the legal fees.

Officer Berry proved good on his word, although he was indeed let go from the force shortly thereafter. Max had mixed feelings on it. He did eventually help, but, on the other hand, he was ultimately too similar to her uncle. A dirty cop.

Things weren't completely resolved with Rachel. Mr. Amber explained these things could last years, but seemed confident in Mr. Landhauser's eventual conviction. Other than that, Max and Chloe had little interaction with James, which suited them both just fine. Too many painful memories, on all sides.

These events, however, had become background noise to the girls, who were much too busy with each other to pay much attention to anything else. David was a little freaked at learning Max and Chloe were "a thing," but, surprisingly, not because it was a same-sex relationship. Rather, he began to insist that they sleep in separate rooms. He lost that fight quickly, receiving no backup from Joyce whatsoever. Over the months he seemed to grow used to the idea, and now it no longer appeared to bother him. Max had even found herself starting to understand what Joyce saw in the man. She kept her thoughts to herself though. Chloe was still as icy as ever when it came to her "step-prick."

The idea of attending a new school brought back memories of Seattle. Of her tormentors there--Eric's boys, and Victoria. Max chuckled about how _old_ self would be terrified at learning Victoria and some of her minions would also be moving to Arcadia Bay and attending Blackwell. No so anymore.

_In a weird way, it'll actually be kind of good to see Victoria again. So knows as well as I how much of what she said was complete bullshit. If she paid attention to the news, like, at all. Which I'm sure she did._

The case had made some waves in Seattle, particularly with the family and friends involved. It was tough, but Max testified against Calvin's character, on the record.

_I wonder if she'll just continue to be a bitch? Or will she just ignore me? Somehow, I just can't see her being humble, and admitting she did something wrong. Not that it really matters, what she does._

Max looked over at her girlfriend, who was intensely focused on getting her end of the flag secured onto the wall. Although Chloe had kept her look the same, Max had allowed her partner's influence to rub off on her a little. Her clothing was a bit more daring, and she'd experimented with different hair colors. She was even beginning to enjoy Chloe's music preferences more. She was still squeamish about a tattoo, though. Baby steps, she told herself.

There had, however, been some rough moments. A few months ago, an anonymous harassment campaign targeted her Facebook account, forcing her to all but stop using the site. But in the grand scheme of things, Max found she didn't really care.

_That had to be the Landhauser boys. Who else would even give a shit?_

And then there were the flash backs. Chloe straight up called them PTSD. Max wasn't so sure, but when she spoke to David about them, he immediately recommended her to a psychiatrist. Max was reluctant at first, but found that the sessions really _did_ help. She still had nightmares, from time to time, but the straight-up visions had ceased completely.

"Tah dah!" Chloe sang, jumping back, pronouncing her artistic impression to Max. Max nodded, slightly rolling her eyes. "Come on, Max. Gotta represent."

A ray of sunlight glanced off Max's eye through the window.

_Shitballs, is it getting that late already? I wanted to get some shots before the sun went down._

"Grab your keys, girl wonder. We need to get down to the water, stat."

"Ooh, I like bossy Max," Chloe wiggled her eyebrows as she foraged through a pile of clothes for her keys and wallet.

* * *

The two walked, hand in hand, along the peaceful waterfront. There was actually some foot traffic; a couple of other young couples apparently had the same idea of a romantic sunset walk along the beach. Max reminded herself that this was a good thing. Another side-effect of Mr. Prescott's influence taking a hit. The legal battle had cost him time and money. In the meantime, Arcadia Bay seemed to actually be recovering. New businesses had opened, and even new homes were being built. The town's general atmosphere of gloom that had hung like a dark cloud had changed completely.

Max knew it was hopelessly cheesy, but she wanted a picture of Chloe doing the "walking away holding her hand" thing that had become so popular recently. Chloe had scoffed, but otherwise agreed. Max flipped through the Polaroids, her heart warmed at the image of Chloe looking off into the distance, pulling her along to their next adventure.

"What?" Chloe asked, following up with a small laugh. "You're looking at me funny."

"Mmm," Max replied, shaking her head. "I'm so excited about the future. Blackwell, then getting out there, into the real world. Our first apartment, first house..."

"I suppose I'm gonna have to be the breadwinner," Chloe joked, "if you're going down the artsy road."

"Like I have so many other skills," Max jibed back.

Chloe didn't state the obvious aloud. Max's rewind was still there--their secret trump card, an ace up their sleeve. But, Chloe's unspoken retort remained in her head. They had had plenty of time to think about how to make money using her power, and they had a large amount of spending capital to get started.

Max was personally amazed there was no ill ramifications for taking the money. So far it had never come up. Perhaps Eric thought it might weaken his position? Regardless, with the amount of time that had passed, their secret stash had become like a security blanket. Something to fall back on, in case things ever got truly messed up again.

They both took a seat on a nearby bench to watch the sun descend slowly towards the water. Max shifted closer to Chloe, who put an arm around her shoulder, leaning Max's head onto her.

"I wish we could just be here, like this, forever," Chloe remarked.

"I thought you hated this hick down?" Max asked, as she wormed closer.

"I... you know I just say shit like that, Max. I never hated Arcadia Bay. I just... I hated not having you, Max."

Max turned her head, looking at Chloe's luminescent blue eyes. As their lips met with a soft kiss, the sun gave a small flare of intense light as it disappeared beneath the horizon. Max closed her eyes, and said the words she'd said a hundred times by now. "I love you, Chloe Price."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks everyone so much your comments (I read them all!) and kudos. 
> 
> And of course, I hope you enjoyed the story. This one actually went on a bit longer than I had originally written notes for, so I hope there wasn't anything to jarring about 2/3 the way through :). I just felt that the story hadn't concluded properly, and that it would be fun to do some scenes down in the 'Bay.
> 
> Again, thank you all for your support.
> 
> Edit (9/30/2018): After considering the constructive feedback I've gotten about how this ended, I've decided to do a direct sequel to this work that will address the lingering issues of Eric Landhauser, his sons, Vanessa, etc, as well as introduce some new aspects. More to come soon.
> 
> Edit (10/2/2018): I had to make a _slight_ retcon to a sentence in the final section of this chapter, in order to make the sequel work. Sorry! xD


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